


What His Family Taught Him

by Ralli



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arson, College, Dadza, Depictions of depression, Drista (briefly won’t be mentioned again), Events of the Dream SMP, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Halloween Special: Chapter 4, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Pogtopia, TW: mentions of fighting and blood, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Trick or Treating, Villain Wilbur Soot, kind of, manburg, mentions of fighting, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of parents fighting, not much angst, references to self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27095236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralli/pseuds/Ralli
Summary: Chapters 1-3: Tommy has always been a rambunctious kid, since the day he got adopted into Phil’s house with his brothers. (These chapters are various stories that set up the AU.)4: Halloween special5-9: SMP Events up until before Tommy’s exile10-11: Tommy’s school year before SMP events kick off again.~~~A/n:TW’s in the beginning notes of the chapters. Mind the tags. Stay safe.
Relationships: All Platonic familial stuff, None
Comments: 94
Kudos: 957





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey first work in this fandom. The fighting part isn’t a huge part of this, it’s just mentioned in the beginning as one paragraph. It’s the third full paragraph, if you wanna skip, it’s not super important to the plot. But also there is heavy description of the blood from a nose bleed and a quick mention of a bruising. there will also be swearing.  
> But this is heavy on the comfort side, because i love the family dynamic.

Drip. _Drip. Drip._

He’s waiting for Wilbur on a bench, just outside of a park. His entire face hurts, indiscriminate of where the fist actually connected. His nose is dripping something red onto the pavement. He blinks slowly, the proverbial lid on a quickly over boiling pot keeping him from feeling anything but numb and dull pain. His stomach hurts, and his hunching is making it worse, but he doesn’t uncurl. Wilbur will arrive soon. He texted so just before Tommy’s nose started leaking.

_Drip._

Tommy scuffs his shoes against the droplets of dark crimson on the concrete, feeling like an apt comparison to the red-ish smear on the pavement. He’s breathing slowly through his mouth, and his brain keeps stuttering over _what in the hell is he supposed to tell the rest of his family_. He supposes that’s better than thinking about what happened less than half an hour ago. 

_Drip._

_Knuckles collide with flesh as words collide with ear; it’s all vibrations. The ringing in his head hasn’t stopped, still riding the wave of adrenaline. Some idiot Tommy was for thinking this is a fight he can win. The man he’s up against is about 6 inches taller than him, and probably in his senior year._

_Drip._

The sound of wheels on pavement and an engine with a slight whine (‘I’ll get it fixed some day, Tommy.’) drags him out of his thoughts, a wave of relief settling over him. He slowly lifts his head, the disgusting feeling of blood sliding over his lips almost makes him gag. A tall figure steps out of the car on the driver’s side.

“Wil,” Tommy croaks. He definitely sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. 

_Drip._

“Tommy, oh my god. What the hell happened?” Brotherly concern greets him when he looks Wilbur in the eyes. 

Tommy feels like crying, but the lid on the pot stays shut. He doesn’t answer his brother, instead opting to get onto his feet and shuffle towards the car. Wilbur watches him the entire time, eyebrows pinched up, mouth just barely agape. The movement of the door shutting reverberate through his aching jawbone. 

_Drip._

The look on his brother’s face changes from concerned to sympathetic and that just makes it worse. Wilbur drives him home in almost near silence, only breaking it to hand him a napkin for his nose that smells faintly of fast food with the comment ‘tip your head forward’. He does so. 

They pull into the driveway, and Phil stands out on the porch. Tommy almost forgot. It’s Phil’s day off from work, and now he can add guilt to emotion soup he’s left on the stove for too long, _because why does he always ruin things for his brothers?_

_Drip_. 

Wilbur shuts down the engine and gives Tommy a sideways glance, it‘s calmer than before. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, but I want to know at some point. And Phil should know too.”

Tommy nods sharply, before getting out of the car. He clutches the napkin to his nose, his other hand going to snake around his still aching midsection. He wants to hunch over on himself. He also really wants a hug, but he’d never say that out loud, too prideful to open his mouth.

_Drip_

Phil worries his lip as the two approach, his usual green striped hat left inside, hanging up. Tommy feels gross; the taste and smell of blood invading his senses until he wishes it would _just stop_ and he could forget about his probable black eye and Phil wouldn’t have to stress on his day off and Wilbur wouldn’t be giving him this look like he’s a kicked puppy when he thinks Tommy isn’t looking his way and he hopes Techno doesn’t get wind of this because _he’d be so disappointed that Tommy didn’t win and_ -

Phil wraps an arm around Tommy and starts guiding him into the house. His face feels hot as he tries to hold back tears, the pot now a pressure cooker for everything ugly he’s been feeling in the past hour, ready to explode. He leans into Phil’s grip for support, feeling much smaller than he actually is. For a split second, he’s eight years old again, bawling over scrapes on his knees. His face hurts so much more than scraped knees, but at least he isn’t crying. 

_Drip._

Philza sits him on the toilet cover like he does every time Tommy gets hurt, and rummages through the big red bag with a white plus on it that’s usually out of sight under the bathroom sink. The door creaks as it opens a bit. Messy locks stick out from behind the wood, followed by worried brown eyes. 

“Ice pack deliver,” Wilbur says. He has a strained smile, like he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Thank you, Wil,” Phil answers without looking up. 

“Thanks, Wil,” Tommy echos, eyes unfocussed.

“Catch.” 

That’s Tommy’s only warning before he’s being chucked a plastic baggie with a frozen sponge inside. Taking care to make his voice less hollow, Tommy utters another “Thanks.”

Wilbur throws a thumbs up before leaving the cramped bathroom. The silence is suddenly stifling, and Tommy’s chest hurts as his eyes water. He holds the ice pack to his face with his free hand. The coolness feels amazing, but he can no longer distract himself by trying to ignore the pain. 

_Drip._

“How hard were you hit?” Phil asks, suddenly. 

Tommy looks up from the tile. “I don’t know, not that hard? Enough to bruise.”

“Are you dizzy? Do you have a headache?” 

“No. I did a little at first but it’s gone now.” 

“Any trouble walking?” 

“No. Why are you asking me this?” 

_Drip._

“Just checking for a concussion. Let me see your nose,” Phil instructs. 

Tommy takes his hand away, his nose now bleeding sluggishly. 

“It’s not swollen, that’s good. Breath through your nose.” 

Tommy does. 

“Sounds fine. I don’t think it’s broken. If it starts to swell, let me know.” 

“Thanks, Phil.” 

Phil nods. “Now let me see your knuckles.” 

Tommy turns his free hand over. His knuckles are bruised, but he can’t feel it much. Phil gently grabs his fingers, running a thumb gently over them. They hurt a bit at the contact but Tommy can handle it. 

“Does this hurt?” Phil puts his thumb squarely over a knuckle and presses down a little harder. 

“Not much.” 

“They’ll be fine then. Any cuts?” 

Tommy shakes his head then winces when it aggravates his bruised cheek. 

_Drip_. 

“Tell me what happened?” It’s phrased a like question, open ended and soft. Tommy doesn’t think he could actually say no. 

“Some fucker who’s been making fun of me for not having any family. He kept saying how sad it was I didn’t have parents. He’s a real idiot, Phil, talking out of his ass. Not very pog,” Tommy says.

Phil chuckles and Tommy cracks a small smile. 

“I don’t about care what he says, but he threw the first punch. I’m not backing down after that.”

“I’m proud of you.” Phil smiles softly, pulling Tommy into an embrace. “For standing up for yourself.” The warmth in Phil’s voice feels like it’s seeping into Tommy’s bones. “Let’s go downstairs and relax while we wait for Techno to get home, ok? Just because you don’t have parents doesn’t mean you don’t have a family. You know I love you very much and the rest of your brothers do as well.”

Tommy nods into Phil’s shoulder and the two of them separate and file out of the bathroom. Wilbur is sitting on one end of the couch on his phone, Phil takes the other, leaving Tommy to sandwich himself between the two. Wilbur moves to bump shoulders with Tommy and show him the phone screen, a video of some stupid thing pulled up. Phil opens a book and starts reading quietly. 

They sit like this for a while until Techno arrives and they all help make dinner. Tommy goes to bed with a smile. Tomorrow he can go kick that idiot’s ass and show that bitch just what his _family_ taught him about fighting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy dreams about his biological parents. Phil displays the amazing dadza sixth sense, and Tommy learns why Phil fosters and adopts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written in the span of the second Deathly Hallows movie and really not edited at all. This also might grow as I add more shit to it, like maybe when Tommy first comes to the house. 
> 
> Also, I would like to say that I have never been a foster kid or been put up for adoption, I’ve most likely made a mistake when writing about the system. I apologize. 
> 
> This has not been edited, at all. I apologize, again, for anything literary mistakes.

Tommy doesn’t know why Mummy and Daddy are fighting. He can hear them yelling but he can’t hear their words all that well. He’s sitting in the living room of their apartment, staring at the TV screen as it plays the first Harry Potter movie, not focused on anything. 

He feels bad. He doesn’t know why he feels bad. He’s six (and a half!) and he thinks his parents are fighting because of him. 

_“-bring Tommy back before work because he can’t sit in a hotel all day.”_

He hears his name from behind the closed door down the hall, but he doesn’t turn his head. He’s hungry, but it doesn’t really register. He once again feels bad, but he doesn’t at the same time. Tommy wants to cry, but he feels numb as well. 

A door slams, he flinches. His mother stalks into the living room, lips a thin line and eyes clouded over. Tommy is very scared, but he’s not sure why. His dad follows, looking like he wants to shout something. 

“Pack an overnight bag, Tommy,” His dad instructs, his voice tired. 

“Where am I going?” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“I don’t know.” 

Tommy’s stomach feels tight. He doesn’t understand why he has to leave. His mother opens the door and walks out, not sparing Tommy a glance. 

Tommy is six, and he’s scared. 

Tommy is sixteen and he wakes up in his bed, yanked from his nightmare by his own mind. He takes a shuddering breath, and reminds himself that he is in Phil’s house now (safe) and he is not around his angry father (a bitch, in Tommy’s professional opinion) and that he is no longer alone (not anymore). he sits in the dark, blinking rapidly at the wall he can’t see. 

Phil must have a sixth sense when it comes to parenting, because suddenly there’s a light spilling from under the crack of Tommy’s door and soft knocking. It’s Phil (Techno knocks harder, Wilbur rarely knocks at all), Tommy knows it’s Phil. 

“Come in,” he croaks. 

The handle clicks when it turns and Phil’s shadow blocks the light from the hallway. 

“Are you ok, Tommy?” 

_“Are you ok, Tommy?”_

_He’s seven and not really used to Phil yet. He’s bounced from house to house in the foster system for a little bit. Always labeled the ‘problem child’ for getting into fights and generally acting out._

_Phil doesn’t see him as a problem child though. It’s been a month and he’s never been yelled at for his poor grades, he’s never been snapped at for being ‘annoying’. He’s seven and for the first time an adult has asked him how he’s been doing._

“Bad dream,” Tommy says. His eyes droop in sudden exhaustion, the adrenaline failing to keep at bay the fact that it’s the wee hours of the morning and he’s already had a late night finishing homework. “Nothing new.” 

“But are you ok?” Phil asks again, voice gentle and calm. 

“Yeah, for the most part.” 

Phil comes into the room. “Do you need anything?” 

Tommy takes a moment to think. His mouth is horribly dry. “A glass of water?” 

Phil nods, before offering a hand. “Want to come with?” 

Tommy pushes the covers aside, puts his bare feet on the wood floor and totters over. He rubs at one of his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Phil puts an arm around him. It’s nice. The both of them walk downstairs, carefully navigating the dimly lit house. He breaks away from Phil to get a glass and the water pitcher from the fridge. Phil stands watch. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” It’s not a question, but an offer. Comfort. 

“Same shit as always. The same fight.” Tommy mutters before downing the glass in one go. “It’s always my last night there before they abandoned me.” 

“Do you want a hug?” Again, not a question. The same offer in different packaging. 

“Not really.” 

Phil understands. Tommy’s never been one for physical affection. A one armed hug is the closest thing Phil will get to Tommy asking for affection. He doesn’t push it on Tommy. 

“I’m tired of it, Phil,” Tommy admits, staring through the glass as it distorts the grain of the wood beneath him. “I’m tired of it hurting again and again. I’m tired of feeling alone over and over.” 

Phil inhales, then sighs deeply. “I get that.” 

“Ten years. It’s been ten years and I’m still getting bad dreams about it.” 

Phil nods, not that Tommy can see it. “I still get nightmares about my own parents. They’re not as frequent as they used to be.” 

Tommy looks up, watching as Phil’s expression takes a distant feeling to it. For a moment, Phil looks a lot more tired, and a lot less like an adult keeping it all together.

“I started fostering and adopting because I knew what it was like to be in a bad situation as a kid. Be it fighting parents—“ Phil nods at Tommy. “—or neglectful ones.

“I left on my own, and I had no support system, nobody to fall back on if I fucked up. I never wanted that for anybody else. But I can’t foster or adopt every child on the planet. So I’m doing my best to be there for you. All three of you.” 

Phil shifts in his seat. “I’m not going to say it’s been easy, or that it will be easy, for all of us, Tommy. I want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what, and that I understand. You will always have me, and my house will always be open to you, even after you grow up and have one of your own.

“I know I am not your dad—“ 

“Probably for the best.” 

Phil chuckles at that one. “But I can be your support system, when you need it.” 

Tommy nods, suddenly not very sure what to say around the knot in his throat. He opts to croak out a very dumb, but very emotional “Ok.” 

“Let’s head back to bed,” Phil instructs. “It’s a school night.” 

Tommy almost laughs. _It’s a school night_. He cracks a small smile. “Ok, big man.” 

He goes to bed knowing that his true family taught him trust and security, and that they will always be there for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so my own dad and his wife got into a fight, it was thankfully resolved, but I almost did end up staying in a hotel, had a bagged packed and everything. Most of the dialogue and emotions displayed in the beginning of chapter are my own, but I am a teen and not a six year old, it just wouldn’t fit in the timeline i have set for this quickly growing AU. The last chapter has not actually happened to me. I am too much of a rule follower to have actually enjoyed my childhood in ways such as rough housing so I don’t really get into fights, ever. 
> 
> I would also like to note that this is a dramatic representation of what actually happened because while i didn’t like what was going on both my dad and his wife have apologized to me for getting me caught in the middle of their fight, and it certainly wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as bad as it was described here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo goes over Tommy’s house for the first time in the 6 years they’ve been friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet Tubbo! Because i couldn’t leave Tubbo out of an AU with Tommy as the main character. Short chapter bc this is setting up Tubbo and Tommy interactions in the future.
> 
> This is from Tubbo’s perspective and it doesn’t really fit with the rest of the story, with the whole ‘Tommy learns something from his family by the end of the chapter’ kinda thing I’ve got going on. But I liked it more than my last attempt at a chapter. This is technically chapter 4 in my google doc, but chapter 3 there is dead to me so enjoy!

Tubbo met his best friend when he was 8. 

The boy from across the street had knocked on his door one sunny weekend day, and the two have been terrorizing the neighborhood ever since. Thick as thieves, Tommy had said once ( _ “What’s that mean?” Tubbo asks. “Not sure,” Tommy replies, hoisting a small stick up from the ground. “Sword fight?” _ ). Tubbo’s poor parents haven’t heard the end of it from their neighbors. 

The thing is, while Tommy has been over Tubbo’s house many times, he’s never invited Tubbo over to his place once. They’ve been everywhere, the woods outback, Pogtopia (a small ditch in the woods out back), Manburg (Formally L’manburg, also a rundown shack a couple hundred feet away from Pogtopia), Niki’s bakery just down the road. Everywhere. Except for Tommy’s house. He’s met Tommy’s older brothers, all three. Wilbur used to babysit them when they were little, Techno walks Tommy and Tubbo to school most days, Philza picks them up. 

So Tubbo’s not really sure why he hasn’t been over their house, even for just dinner. They’ve been best friends for almost 6 years now, and he’s never seen beyond Tommy’s living room, which one can see from the doorway. 

Today the two of them are in what’s been dubbed ‘The Nether’. It’s a place where they dump unused bricks so the entire ground is stained red and all the plants look red, except for the cyan mushrooms, but they only grow in a specific area. 

They’re laying on a blanket, looking up at the sky, pretending to see shapes clouds since it’s surprisingly clear today. Just miles of blue. 

“Hey Tommy,” Tubbo starts. He was raised to never invite himself over to someone’s house, but Tommy is basically family at this point. “How come I’ve never been over your house?” 

Tommy shrugs. “I dunno. Why?” 

“Well, we’ve been friends a long time and I’ve never been over. We always go to my house,” Tubbo explains. 

“Do you want to come over to mine?”

“Kinda, yeah.” 

Moments pass, it’s quiet. Tommy breaths out. “Oh.” 

The minutes tick by, and Tubbo is beginning to think that he’s pushed Tommy too far with this topic, that maybe he hit a nerve. 

“To be honest, I’ve never had a house that I’ve stayed in long enough to invite people over before. It kind of slipped my mind that I can do that,” Tommy admits. 

“For six years?” Tubbo questions. 

“Well, I mean, I’ve also never really had a friend beyond you, Tubbo.” 

They fall into silence again.

“That’s kind of sad,” Tubbo whispers. 

Tommy doesn’t comment on that, changing the topic. “Let me ask Phil if you can come to dinner tonight.” 

“Yeah, ok.” Tubbo has enough tact to know not to bring up Tommy’s history any more today.

~~~~~~ 

Dinner at Tommy’s place is all brand new to him. The kitchen connects to the dining room, so Tommy and Tubbo can see Phil and Techno cooking. Tubbo feels kind of strange, finally sitting in his best friends house. He feels like a stranger, despite knowing everyone here with varying degrees of familiarity. 

Wilbur’s different, taller than Tubbo remembers. He’s seen both Techno and Phil recently so nothing’s changed there. The family dynamic here is very different from Tubbo’s home. He guesses it might be because they’re all brothers here, and he has a mum and a dad and no siblings. Even though he feels like an outsider, he’s been welcomed into the group readily. 

“Tubbo. Tubbo, you’re zoning out,” Tommy snaps. 

“Huh?”

“You were zoned out, man. Phil asked if you had any allergies,” Tommy says, immediately going back to his phone. 

“Oh, no. I don’t,” Tubbo says, loud enough for Phil to hear over the sounds of the kitchen sink. 

Phil nods before turning back to the counter. 

Wilbur comes down from somewhere upstairs for dinner, and they all file into the kitchen to receive plates and get food for themselves. It’s macaroni, homemade by the looks of it, with mashed potatoes and bacon gravy as a side. It smells amazing and Tubbo shuffles on his feet while Tommy chatters away about school. 

They all sit at the table and Wilbur and Phil start a debate, something about chewing sand. Tubbo would get scolded for talking about ‘disgusting’ things at dinner time, but the conversation feels natural here. Tommy’s laughing along with Techno. It’s nice, really nice. 

Tubbo leaves, stomach full and laughing, as Tommy walks him across the street to his house. What a neat family, he thinks to himself after the door closes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve seen people use they/them pronouns for Tubbo and if Tubbo uses they/them pronouns please shout at me in the comments and I’ll get it fixed right away. 
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading.


	4. Halloween Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes trick or treating with SBI for the first time. He meets a new friend along the way.
> 
> A/n: I fucked up the ages in this on accident and it honestly wouldn’t have the same vibe if techno and wilbur weren’t teens so please consider this not a part of the canon universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a day late? Yes. Am i mad about it? Only a little. 
> 
> Drista is a minor side character in this and will not be re-appearing, sorry if i got your hopes up. But Dream will be showing up again.

“Trick or treat!” 

Wilbur holds Tommy’s hand as he stands in front of a neighbor’s door. His knees shake with nerves, but his smile is big. He only comes up to Wilbur’s hip, seven years of age and on his first trick or treat with his new family. 

“And what are you, sweetie?” The kind neighbor asks. 

He looks at Wilbur for guidance, who subtly nods. “I’m a business man! I’m gonna scam you!” 

The lady laughs, albeit a little confusedly, and plops another candy in his bag. 

“What do you say?” Wilbur reminds quietly. 

“Oh right, happy halloween!” 

“Happy Halloween to you too, sweetie!” 

“Have a good evening, ma’am,” Wilbur says as they turn around. 

Phil and Techno stand at the end of the driveway, talking quietly. 

“Phil! Phil! I got two pieces of candy!” Tommy shouts, holding up two fingers for emphasis. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Look!” He hold out his bag for Phil’s inspection. 

Phil leans over to pear in, his dark grey angel wings flopping forward. “That’s pretty pog, Tommy.” 

Tommy nods vigorously. His suit is a bit too long for his hands and they act as gloves on the cold night. He’s smiling ear to ear. 

Techno in pig and king get up accompanies him to the next house. He says trick or treat, he gets the candy, he says happy Halloween, lather, rinse and repeat. He’s killing it. 

His bag is too heavy by the third neighborhood he goes to, and Wilbur offers to carry it. Wilbur is dressed in everything backwards, a last minute costume, and the candy bag looks weird in comparison to his clothing. Tommy practically drags him up the next driveway. 

“Trick or treat!” He shouts, ringing the door bell. He’s a lot more confident now, bouncing on his feet as he waits. 

A teen with a mask in a green hoodie answers the door. There’s a badly drawn smiley face on it. “Oh, hi Wilbur.” 

“Dream! Hi. Nice to see you. This is Tommy,” Wilbur introduces. “My little brother.”

“Hi!” Tommy says excitedly. Any friend of Wilbur’s is ok in Tommy’s books. 

“Hey Tommy. I’m about to head out with my sister, so hold open your bag,” He instructs, pulling a candy bowl from somewhere close to the door frame. 

Wilbur hands Tommy his bag, who pries it open as best he can. Wilbur’s friend proceeds to dump the whole bowl into his bag, filling it basically to the top. 

“Woah,” Tommy whispers. “Thank you, Dream!” 

Dream nods. “No problem.”

“You wanna go trick or treating with us?” Wilbur offers. 

Dream peers around Wilbur to see behind him. “Mm. Techno’s with you, I’m not sure he’ll want me and Drista tagging along.” 

“His opinion is shit. Phil won’t mind, promise.” Wilbur tries. “Tommy doesn’t mind either, right Toms?” 

Tommy looks up from staring at how much candy is in his bag. “Huh? Oh yeah! I don’t mind.” 

The masked teen shuffles for a moment. “Ok fine. Lemme get my sister.” 

The door closes, behind it Tommy can hear Dream shouting and the pounding of footsteps. The door opens again and this time Dream is accompanied by an even smaller kid in the same costume. 

“People love when siblings coordinate,” Dream explains. “More candy.” 

The four of them leave the house, and Wilbur and Dream get into their own conversation. 

“Hi, I’m Tommy,” Tommy introduces, sticking out his hand. “I’m a business man!” 

“Drista, I’m a speed runner,” she says. She sounds younger than Tommy. 

Tommy doesn’t know what a speed runner is, but he doesn’t want to seem stupid in front a potential friend. “I’m seven, how old are you?” 

“Five.” She holds up four fingers before noticing and correcting herself quickly. 

“Who’s your favorite woman?” Tommy asks. 

“Tommy!?” Wilbur scolds, and Dream makes a wheezy sound in the background. Wilbur continues, “I’m sorry, Dream, he probably heard that at school.” 

Dream makes a wheezy sound. “It’s fine, she won’t understand, still too young.” 

Drista kicks at the back of her brother’s shins, much to his protest. She blows a raspberry which makes Tommy laugh. 

“You’re funny, Drista.” 

“Thanks.” 

Dreams says quietly to Wilbur, “She’s a little shy.” 

Phil sighs at the amount of children he now has to keep track of. 

“Techno, Wilbur said your opinion is shit,” Tommy tattles, loving the little put out splutter it draws from Wilbur. 

”I did not!” He protests. 

Techno eyes the backwards man for a moment, before slowly turning away to ignore him. 

“Oh come on!” Wilbur complains.  The group continues on. 

“We have to stop at Sapnap’s and George’s, they’re giving out full sized candy bars because their parents are so fu-fudging extra,” Dream announces. 

Tommy’s mouth waters at the idea of a full sized candy bar, and he drops to the back where Phil is, Drista following in suit. He wants something from his bag so bad. 

“Phil?” 

“Yeah, Tommy?” 

“Can I have a piece of candy?” He asks, last year with his old family he wasn’t allowed candy until the next day, but he’s hungry now. 

“Of course, Tommy.” Phil has a big smile on his face. “It’s Halloween, you can have a lot of candy, as long as you don’t make yourself sick.”

Tommy nods, before noticing Dream’s sister at his side. “Can I give Drista a piece too?” 

“You’ll have to ask Dream, but it’s your candy, you can do what you would like with it,” Phil explains, his eyes shining with something warm and proud. “If you wanna share it, that’s ok.” 

“Let’s go ask Dream if you can have some candy!” Tommy suggests, holding out his hand to the 5 year old. 

Drista takes it in her chubby hand and they both run up to the green hoodied man. 

“Dream!” Drista says eagerly. 

She tugs Dream further down and whispers into his ear from behind her mask. Tommy doesn’t hear what she says but Dream whispers back and it makes her giggle. 

“He said yes,” she says quietly after returning to Tommy’s side. 

Tommy gives a toothy grin and grabs as many candies as he can with his tiny hand and shoves them into Drista’s empty bag. Then he hand selects his favorite candy and puts it in her hand. 

“These are my favorite, you might like them too!” Tommy assures. He’s 2 years older than her, so he’s definitely right. 

She pulls at the wrapper with her teeth and puts the sweet in her mouth with vigor. A smile spread over her face.

“‘S good,” She mutters with her mouthful. 

“I know! It’s delicious.” Tommy nods. “Best candy.” 

Drista nods, her mask slipping a bit with the force. She beams, her teeth covered in the chocolate of the treat. 

“Ok, ok. Game plan,” Phil says suddenly. “There are tons of lights down there. We’re gonna hit everyone, got it? Whoever gets the most candy I’ll buy a chocolate bar next time I’m out. Deal?” 

Oh, it’s on. Tommy is going to crush the competition. “Deal!” 

“Everyone partner up, for safety. I’m going to bring the car to the end of the street.Techno, you’re in charge while I’m gone,” Phil calls over his shoulder. 

Techno nods solemnly, and Tommy immediately blows a raspberry. Despite the fact that Techno is almost 17 and the oldest, Tommy is  _ clearly  _ the most responsible here. He shared his candy with Drista! Of his own free will! But he guesses he can let Techno be the boss for a bit, if it means he gets to run around instead of looking after everyone. 

Techno turns to the street, raises an arm— “Three. Two. One.” — he brings it down, signaling the start of the candy competition. “Go!”

Tommy pulls Drista after him and starts pulling Dream along with them to the nearest house. He hopes Dream is right about the sibling costumes, because there’s no way he loses to Wilbur and Techno. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context: The Dream SMP war is basically just kids having fun in the woods by a shack they named L’manburg. They call the woods the SMP, my reasoning being that Sapnap started calling it the Simp woods and Dream knocked the I out because simping is cringe to make it the SMP. I’ll probably be explaining that better in later chapters. This takes place before the events of the SMP happen so Wilbur and Dream don’t have any conflict yet. The Election also hasn’t happened yet in this chapter, and it probably won’t be written about but only mentioned in passing. I’ll be including more of the neighborhood antics in later chapters, but this is the halloween special and I spent my halloween baby sitting a seven year old as he went about trick or treating.
> 
> He went as Link, I went as mothman, if anyone was wondering. I put lipstick on for no reason because it was covered by my mask. Also, still wear ur fucking masks in public. It is not an option, it is not a government conspiracy, it is not taking away any personal freedoms. It’s public safety, and personal safety. My friend’s dad tested positive for covid and now she is quarantined. you need to wear your mask. This chapter takes place before covid even existed, and also it doesn’t exist in this universe.


	5. The History of the Dream SMP (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aka: The L’manburg Revolution and The Election events  
> Tommy’s perspective on the events of the Dream SMP (the woods out behind Tommy’s house) in this universe. 
> 
> Quick Warning for some mild violence, swords are sticks in this universe and instead of shooting arrows they just chuck stones at each other like cavemen. Also Wilbur has a lighter and is definitely getting way too into the role play in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, real quick some set up: The Dream SMP is the woods the neighborhood is situated around. Hypixel is the neighboring woods that has a small strip of land in the woods with the SMP. The community house is a fire pit (since i never explain that one in this chapter), the prime path is just a walkway through the woods, Techno’s potato farm is technically in Hypixel, but it’s right on the border between Hypixel and the SMP. It also shares a border with L’manburg. Between the street Dream’s house is on and the SMP is called No Man’s Land, which is still woods but it’s sparse woods so Dream didn’t claim it, and that’s where pogtopia is. 
> 
> So on a map, which i did draw, left to right, would Be Hypixel, a road, a little more of hypixel, L’manburg, Dream SMP, No Man’s Land + Pogtopia, Dream’s street. Sapnap and George live in a different neighborhood but they bike to Dream’s house a lot. Fundy lives on the corner of Dream’s street and Tommy’s street and one street over from Tommy’s is where Niki and Eret live. That’s also where the nether is. I’ll probably post the map as a seperate chapter because christ on a bicycle i’m putting too much effort into this. 
> 
> This takes place during the summer, after the Tubbo chapter and the first chapter.

The first war of L’manburg is him, Wilbur, Tubbo and Fundy (not Eret, fuck Eret, Tommy thinks) all fighting to liberate the shack in the woods behind Tommy’s house. They’re muddy, bruised and _exhausted_ after, but it was worth it. Tommy’s shoulder aches from where Dream’s expert rock throw barreled into the flesh. Tommy can’t believe he _lost_ that duel (if you can call throwing stones at each other a duel). He gave up his precious records, the one he found lying in L’manburg the first day he decided to explore the rotting shack with Wilbur. They were his prized possessions!! 

It’s not fair that Dream claimed all of SMP woods (formally known as Simp woods), even if he got there first. That didn’t matter. The woods were supposed to be shared. The Nether was shared! Hypixel (the neighboring woods that encroached a bit onto SMP woods) was shared! The Holy Land (another section of the woods, technically part of the SMP, but neutral territory for everyone) was shared! Why should Dream get the whole woods? 

So they fight for a tiny piece of land with a rundown, rotting shack on it and for a principle that no one man should own everything.

It hurts to watch Eret stand on the opposite side of L’manburg’s unsolidified border. When Tommy sees him, the blond pointedly looks away, scrunching his nose like he’s smelled something bad. The tall boy deserves to be shunned, to be left to his betrayal born monarchy. It’s about time Eret learned that a king is the loneliest man of all. 

Wilbur signs a notebook page, their “declaration of indepedance”, consequently signing a war declaration as well. Dream and his friends fight hard, clearly out weighing them in skills, and yet L’manburg still won. Tommy will get back those discs, some day. But today, he’s standing inside the old shack with L’manburg residents, awaiting the first words spoken in their new nation from his president, the dawn of a new era. 

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SUCK IT GREEN BOI!!!” Wilbur cheers, fists pumping in the air.

They go home tired, but happy, all of them filing through the door to Tommy’s place for dinner. Tommy chatting away about how he won them their independence, how he was going to trick Dream into giving him his discs back until Wilbur playfully tells him to shut up and eat. Fundy and Tubbo leave after dinner, just before the sun starts to sink behind the suburban houses lining the street. 

~~~~

The election was such a dumb idea, Tommy says to himself. He kicks at a rock on the ground. The walls of Pogtopia (just a ditch in the woods) feel like they stretch miles down into the ground. Wilbur is sitting against the other side, doing something on his phone. They lost the election, to _Schlatt_ , Wilbur’s oldest friend. The one who was supposed to help them win over Swag 2020. It feels like Eret all over again. 

The walls feel close, squeezing him between them. He’s having trouble catching his breath from running away from L’manb-no Manburg. His knees feel like jello now that the adrenaline is gone. He wants to sit down, but he’s restless. 

“Tommy,” Wilbur says quietly. “We’ll get it back, yeah?” 

Tommy nods sharply. “Of course, Wil.” 

Wilbur stares at him for a moment. It’s quiet except for the occasions rustle of leaves in the wind. Tommy’s waiting, waiting for an order from his president. Waiting for something to do, just so he can breathe again. 

It doesn’t look like an order is going to come, so Tommy gives himself a task. “We can’t do this alone.” 

“We can’t trust anyone, Tommy. We might _have_ to do this alone,” Says Wilbur, voice shaking. 

“No. No, I have an idea.” 

~~~~ 

Technoblade is a godsend in the dark times. He brings snacks, he brings experience. He used to get into fist fights with the Hypixel visitors _for fun_. He brings Sun Tzu, and determination. He beat Dream once for 10 dollars. Most of all, he brings hope. Maybe not intentionally, but the metaphorical crown he wears, the commanding voice has it stomping in behind him like that great boar from Tubbo’s mythology book. Techno walks like he’s royalty, up and down the length of Pogtopia. If Tommy didn’t know him to be his socially awkward, sarcastic brother, he might have mistaken Techno to be the leader.

But it’s Wilbur who gives direction. Make Pogtopia our home, he tells them. We’ll figure it out after we get settled, he says. Stop putting all my shit around the ditch, Tommy, he scolds. 

Tubbo comes to visit before lunch time. Tommy is there to intercept him before he reaches Pogtopia, a good sturdy stick held at his side like a sword. 

“I’ve been ordered to find you and kill you,” Tubbo mutters, heart broken. “But I don’t want to do that, Tommy. You’re my best friend.” 

The tense feeling leaves him. Tommy offers his arm for a quick bro hug, and takes him to see Wilbur. Spy for us, Wilbur instructs. Tubbo is eager, anything to not be treated with hostility by his best friend. Tommy is loyal, always has been, and if Wilbur told him to treat Tubbo as the enemy, there’s a strong possibility he would. 

Tubbo seems happy to talk with Techno, too. It’s more like talking _to_ Techno, as the pink haired teen doesn’t offer much in ways of conversation, but it’s fine nonetheless. 

Tubbo leaves with a smile, waving and saying he has to get back, before Schlatt suspects something. He’s got his excuse ready, something silly about being pregnant— he hasn’t exactly thought it over much. Tommy waves back, ear to ear grinning. Tubbo’s on their side, the right side. 

He doesn’t talk about the day at dinner, he fears Phil thinking he’s getting in too deep with the whole role playing thing. Instead he talks about how he found something cool in The Nether, something insignificant. He eats with vigor though, devouring his meal and going back for seconds. Long day, lots of exercise. He’s excited for tomorrow, leg bouncing under the table as he enthusiastically shovels heaps of mac n cheese into his mouth. 

~~~~

Wilbur is acting differently. Tommy is getting worried about his brother’s mental health. He’s been muttering to himself some days. That time that Tommy’s legs got caught when he tripped on a root and couldn’t get up was met with cruel laughter and dirt poured on his head. Wilbur keeps saying things, weird things, half muttered, sometimes shouted. He’s taken it home too, outside of the realm of pretend, and Tommy is beginning to question if it’s still an act or if he needs to tell Phil to take Wilbur to a psychiatrist. 

“Wilbur you’re being insane!” Tommy shouts. “We can’t lead a nation if there’s nothing left of it.” 

Wilbur is fiddling with a lighter, one of the square ones that the top flicks open on a hinge. It’s a gift from Dream. He wants to burn it all to the ground, wants to burn _them_ all to the ground. And he wants to do it in three days time, at The Festival. Techno has all but disappeared for a week, something with college applications keeping him busy. Leaving Tommy to deal with Wilbur’s descent into madness all by himself. 

“Don’t you get it Tommy?” Wilbur starts. “We’re trying to take back a nation from a man who was democratically voted in! Killing Schlatt won’t do anything. The people wanted him.” 

“But he’s a tyrant!” Tommy protests. 

“He’s unorthodox in his leading but he’s throwing a fucking festival to celebrate democracy. It’s not a bad idea.” 

“But it’s our country, Wil,” Tommy argues. 

“Oh Tommy,” Wilbur says sympathetically, honeyed words to distract from the sneer on his face. “You’re scared. I can see it in your eyes, you’re scared Tommyinnit. You have to understand, when I said you were never going to be president that wasn’t a challenge.” 

He gets real close to Tommy, hands on his little brother's shoulders, undousable fire in his eyes. “It’s the truth. You’re never going to be president. There isn’t going to be a ‘L’manburg’ to be president of, Toms.” 

Wilbur was right, Tommy is scared, but not of the future of Manburg, not of the lighter still in Wil’s hand, digging into the meat of his shoulder, but of his big brother. His half deranged eyes and delighted smile. 

He gets close enough that Tommy can smell his toothpaste, the same stuff Tommy uses, sitting on the bathroom counter back at the house Tommy very suddenly wishes he was. “If _I_ can’t have L’manburg, then _no one_ can have L’manburg.” 

Wilbur lets him go to twirl himself around, Phil’s old, brown trench coat dramatically flaring with his movements. He looks up, Tommy guesses to those sky gods he used to rant about, and shouts “Let’s blow that motherfucker sky high!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did i accidentally reveal myself to be a techno stan when I started describing him coming to Pogtopia? Perhaps. 
> 
> I did zero editting on this and if it feels scattered i’m sorry. 
> 
> Let me know in the comments if you do want a picture of the map i drew bc it’s pretty jam packed of a lot of stuff. I might make one of just the SMP woods to make it a bit clearer. I don’t have Ponk, Punz, Sam, or Antfrost in this because i don’t watch them. If a character included in the actual smp events doesn’t show up it means i don’t know them well enough to write them. 
> 
> I’d also like to specify that I like Eret, and the distaste Tommy shows for him in this chapter is not my actual opinion of Eret. I think they’re an awesome dude and he’s one of my favorites.


	6. The History of The Dream SMP (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Decent of Wilbur Soot and the Festival. 
> 
> Warning for mentions of canon typical violence, like last chapter it’s just sticks and rocks, and now slingshots but the kids pretend that they’re actual weapons. Also, Wilbur’s threats to burn down Manburg go way too far and I would like to say, Do Not Play With Chemicals. It never ends well. I got sulfur up my nose once in chemistry once and it was hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo boy, this one is a doozy. Don’t expect me to have super frequent updates this is a one time thing, i just couldn’t stop writing. Prepare for the word count like double. 
> 
> I’m at school rn so i’ll update the chapter with the maps when I get home, where the maps i drew are
> 
> This is the longest chapter of anything I have ever written. I wrote a full length novella for school once and this chapter is longer than one of those chapters. 
> 
> Just... holy shit. This is probably my best work. It does not go in chronological order, as a warning. I wrote it taking a page out of SAD-ist’s book. It really adds just adds to it.

At some point during the week before Techno stays home for college shit, Tommy ends up face to face with Sapnap.

Tommy’s mad, very fucking mad. He had a cardboard cutout of a cow he stole from some place named Henry and Sapnap just fucking _took_ it, like one of the only rules Dream had for the woods wasn’t ‘don’t steal’. Sapnap won’t give it back.

Somehow Henry ends up in the pond, slowly disintegrating. Somehow (definitely not by him, most likely by Badboyhalo, wink wink) Karl’s toothpick eiffel tower gift to Sapnap gets covered in mud. Somehow, he ends up with Dream on his side in this fight. Somehow, he ends up here, Sapnap in front of him and backed by more people than Tommy can handle. Some how the negotiations switch from payback to trading for his discs, one of them anyways. 

He has Sapnap’s mummified fish, Mars, acquired from Dream, Pogtopia’s secret ally. Along with the fish, Dream has provided Tommy with his best stick, one the masked teen whittled himself to be more comfortable to hold and covered in duct tape to make it nearly unbreakable, and a slingshot labeled ‘Not Penis’ in worn, green sharpie on the handle. 

He’s ready to trade Mars for his disc, or at least threaten to fucking snap the dry fish in half if he doesn’t get it back (Dream told him he can’t actually break Beckerson, but he can threaten to). He’s up against an army of teenagers older than him. He’s like 90 percent sure Sapnap has _a job_. 

“There’s one thing I have, that you’ll never, ever, ever, ever have,” He says, slowly. Calculating his chances. 

“Oh yeah, Tommy?” Sapnap sneers, an easy victory ablaze in his almost black eyes. “What’s that?” 

Tommy grins, holding Dream’s stick in a loose grip. “I have the Blade.” 

His oldest brother drops down from the trees where he was waiting, and the rest is a blur of fighting. He sees Dream show up at some point, mask to the side to make it easier to see. Tommy sees Technoblade smack Sapnap in the chest, an automatic out in their little role play game. His own stick comes up to meet with Badboyhalo’s, before he sees the rest of Sapnap’s little army trudging back to their bases. They can come back and fight again after they’ve touched the rocks labeled as their ‘respawn point’. Tommy steps in the pond nearby on accident and soaks his shoe. 

And then it’s over. His arm is tired from swinging, he’s panting, but it’s over. He got hit on the thigh with a rock and it stings, but they won. Tommy didn’t get his disc back but now he has everyone’s stuff.

“Look, Technoblade, this is all ours!” Tommy points out. “And I did everything!!” 

He’s kidding, of course. But he has to stay in character, a boastful, energetic, slightly egotistical sixteen year old. He does help carry a majority of the things their defeated enemy dropped back to Pogtopia, as a thank you to Techno and Dream. 

~~~~ 

Techno receives an invitation to the Festival. Tubbo stops by to drop it off on the afternoon before the festival, and Tommy itches to know exactly what it said. He’s bugging Techno about it while the man plays minecraft on his computer. 

“It’s just says I’m invited. Wilbur said I should go, ‘recon’ he called it. Besides aren’t we supposed to leave the role playing in the woods?” Techno snorts. 

“I mean, tell that to Wilbur, he started it. Bringing home his crazy mumbling,” Tommy says quietly, like Wilbur might be right outside his door, listening. 

“Wilbur’s already under a lot of stress with the pressure of college coming up,” Techno explains. “Honestly, you should get a head start on it, maybe you won’t be as stressed as Wil if you start early.” 

“Couldn’t be bothered,” Tommy sniffs. “I don’t even know if I want to go to college yet.” 

Techno shakes his head. “Don’t let Phil hear you say that. He’ll get on your ass about it if he thinks you might not want to.” 

“Mmm.” That’s the last thing Tommy wants right now. “How’s your bed wars streak?” 

“Unbroken yet,” Techno says, a sarcastic kind of pride seeping into his voice. “If they wish to defeat me, they need to train for another 100 years.”

His proud smirk has Tommy grinning too. “I’m gonna tell everyone at school my brother is undefeated in Minecraft bed wars.” 

“Don’t you dare, Tommy!” Techno scolds, tearing his eyes away from the screen for a second. “I will skin you alive.” 

“Jesus christ, big man, fine,” Tommy secedes, still smiling. 

The ‘you will respawn in …’ screen shows up. Techno grunts “Thanks a lot, Thomas.”

Tommy just grins harder. 

~~~~

Wilbur corners him one day before his face off with Sapnap. He comes with a warning. 

“I don’t trust Technoblade,” Wil says simply, as if it makes sense. Techno is family, he wouldn’t betray them. Not for Schlatt. “I don’t fucking trust him anymore, Tommy.” 

Tommy shrugs it off as the growing paranoia Wilbur’s trying to portray in his role play character. There’s just something in his eyes, though. The way it feels too real to Wilbur, the emotions, the character. 

Dream comes to them on the same day, bearing ‘gifts’. He presents them with a casual air, as if it weren’t enough ingredients to make a small bomb. In the hands of someone like Wilbur, with the way he’s going, it once again feels too real, the pit of Tommy’s stomach dropping out as he watches Wilbur grin gleefully. 

“I want to be your vassal, Dream.” 

Tommy takes a step forward. He puts on his persona face, and decides right then and there to pretend it’s TnT, like Minecraft. Not everything Wilbur needs to cause an explosion (where the hell did Dream get those chemicals anyways?), not everything Wilbur needs to take things too far and actually hurt someone. 

He raises his sling shot, loading it. “Hand me that TnT, Wilbur.” 

Dream dares to take a step between Tommy and his brother, plastic sled painted to look wooden raised high in defence, stick at the ready. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to step in, Tommy.” 

He keeps his aim up. “Wilbur you being a moron! You don’t want to do this” 

Wilbur doesn’t turn to look at him, hands clutching plastic bottles of chemicals, beanie askew in the wrong direction. He doesn’t look up and see the genuine fear that goes beyond Tommy’s character he’s playing. Dream might but if so he chooses not to comment on it. Tommy thinks back to when he chose not to tell Phil about the latest development of the SMP, and how worried Phil might be if he knew about how much the kids were getting into it. He thinks that maybe he should have said something. 

Anything to keep Wilbur from this descent into madness. 

“You could really, actually hurt someone with those, Wil,” Tommy tries. 

“Is that a promise?” Wilbur whispers, only the stillness of Pogtopia allowing for him to be heard. 

In that moment Tommy feels his stomach clench up, this lead weight made of a mix of dread and guilt. This, this is what going to far looks like. He’s scared of the actual vindictive look his brother wears, too accurate to be acting. He’s terrified, but he lowers Not Penis. 

“This is going to far,” He utters. “And you know it Dream. You know it too, Wilbur.” 

“I don’t care, not anymore. I’m going to blow Manburg sky fucking high whether you’re on my side or not,” Wilbur hisses. 

Tommy takes a deep breath, his mind feels torn in two. He’s loyal to a fault, always has been. Every character of his always has this grain of truth to it. But at the same time he’s scared, he knows what Wilbur is planning is wrong. He has to decide, keep his mouth shut and help or leave him and lose the chance to convince Wilbur to stop. 

~~~~ 

Tubbo stands on the porch of Manburg, a speech prepared. Battery powered string lights provide just enough of a glow to see the heads in the crowd. There’s cheap party streamers everywhere and balloons with no helium. They dangle like dead mens’ heads. He swallows roughly. The crowd stairs up at him, each set of eyes ready to bring judgement onto him. 

Schlatt is giving his opening speech, arms spread wide as he smiles. He can see Wilbur and Tommy off in a tree just beyond Manburg’s border, and Technoblade’s pink hair in the swathes of Manburgians below him. Quackity stands beside him, arms folded behind his back. Tubbo is having a hard time focusing on Schlatts words, too busy sweating nervously out his palms and reciting the code word in his head. 

_“Are you happier, Tubbo?” Tommy asks suddenly._

_They’re hanging out on the prime path today, taking some time to let their characters be kids._

_“Huh?”_

_“Are you happier, on Schlatt’s side in Manburg.”_

_Tubbo creases his eyebrows. “It’s not bad. He’s not exactly the nicest but he’s not super mean either.”_

_“Yeah but are you happier?”_

_“No. Why would I be? Manburg doesn’t have you.”_

He’s scared _for_ Tommy. He knows of Wilbur’s plan. Detonate Manburg. Tubbo doesn’t actually have to do anything besides say a certain word. It doesn’t help his nerves, or his sweaty palms. 

Before he knows it there’s clapping and he’s taking center stage, and he’s giving this great speech about lettuce and Manburg. And then he’s in a box, a cardboard box with the front cut out like a window, so he can see everything staring at him, blank faces and judging eyes. 

“Schlatt?” He says quietly, feeling the fear creep up on him. It’s just a game, he reminds himself. It’s just a game, a role playing game. He’s safe. 

“I would rather die than rule with you,” Schlatt explains coldly. 

And then his president is calling up Technoblade, and he’s standing in front of Tubbo’s box. 

_“Tubbox. Tubbo in a box.”_ The joke’s not funny anymore. It no longer feels like a game. 

“Take him out,” Schlatt orders. 

“Like… to dinner?” Techno starts, eyes shifting quickly between Schlatt and Tubbo. He looks nervous. 

“No, I want you to fucking kill him. And I want you to make it painful,” Schlatt says, almost sounding bored. 

You’re safe, he reminds himself. He feels like he is actually going to die though, at the hands of his best friend’s brother, in front of all of Manburg and the eyes of the Poptopia. 

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” Techno starts. He holds a rocket (actually a rock) in one hand, and a crossbow (actually a handcrafted slingshot) in the other. He looks Tubbo in the eyes, a deep sadness that comes with having to do something against your will. He whispers to Tubbo, “I’ll make this as painless as possible.” 

He fires twice in the end, hitting Tubbo right in the chest the second time and Tubbo takes a moment to pretend to die, just thankful that it’s over. He hears Tommy shouting and boots hitting the ground before Schlatt lets him out, tells him to hike back to Pogtopia and stay there. He breathes a sigh of relief to be away from that mess.

When did this little game of theirs become so nerve-wracking?

~~~~ 

Tommy is running out of time to convince Wilbur to give it up. He can’t go see Phil about it, he just can’t. First of all, he can’t tell Phil it’s Tommy’s fault Wilbur is like this. Tommy pushed him to join the boys in the woods, Tommy encouraged most of Wilbur’s actions, agreeing to start a new nation with him. Tommy convinced him they could get L’Manburg back. 

Second of all he’s not a fucking snitch. Wilbur would get in so much trouble for trying to make explosives, like, legal trouble, if anyone found out. He doesn’t want his brother to get in trouble. 

“Wilbur come on. We can find another way,” He pleads. 

Wilbur stands with his back to him, ignoring Tommy. 

He trudged on anyways, “You know this isn’t right.” 

He grabs Wilbur’s shoulder. “Fucking listen to me!”

“What!” Wilbur snarls, whipping his body around. “What do you want??”

“You know this is going too far, Wil. You know it is.” Tommy says.

“I don’t care, they took my L’manburg away. Tommy, they took _our_ L’manburg away,” Wilbur emphasizes. “And everyone you’ve ever known will betray you. We’re on the losing side, do you think Tubbo’s gonna stay just because you’re here? Do you think Techno is going to want to be here once we restore the order? They will all betray us in the end.” 

“Stop it, just stop!” Tommy shouts. “Tubbo wouldn’t do _that_. Techno may leave but that doesn’t mean he’s betraying us!” 

“You’re not stupid, Tommy, use your brain,” Wilbur scolds. “Techno, he’s suspiciously close to Schlatt, isn’t he? Tubbo has a secure job high in the government because of Schlatt. Forget secretary of state, Tubbo is Schlatt’s right hand man!” 

“But he’s also our spy, Wilbur,” Tommy says, struggling for what to do. 

Wilbur sneers. “I bet he’s happier over there. He’s only our spy until it no longer benefits him.” 

No. No no no, Wilbur’s wrong, Wilbur is so fucking _wrong_. “You’re crazy.” 

“Maybe so, but I’m right and you know it.” 

~~~~

Tommy’s stick wacks against Techno’s shoulder, probably a bit too hard for roleplay. He’s fuming, how dare Techno hurt his best friend? He was supposed to be on their side (It’s just like Wilbur said).

“What the hell is wrong with you!!” Tommy screeches. “What the hell, man??” 

Techno doesn’t say anything, but he looks confused, dazed almost, like he also can’t believe he just did that. He pushes Tommy away gently but firmly and turns back to the crowd, firing rocket after rocket into it. He’s a good shot. 

Tommy sees the look on Schlatt’s face and he _bolts_. 

~~~~

It’s dinner, before the big finale, which takes place at dusk. The Festival, as they’ve taken to calling it. Phil’s heard whispers about it, on the couch during movie night, as he’s doing work in the kitchen. He knows more than his kids think. Everyone is oddly silent tonight, though. All of Phil’s attempts to get his brothers to talk have failed. He quickly runs through his checklist; 

First is Techno, he looks bored, aloof, but his hands slightly tremble. Stress of college applications? Or is it something else?

Wilbur is tapping, tap tapping on the table, and bouncing his leg. He’s picking at his food like he can’t stomach it. He’s nervous. What for? 

Tommy— he looks… guilty. He’s avoiding Phil’s gaze like it means death. What the fuck is up with his brothers?

“Alright. What’s going on?” Phil says in his ‘dad voice’. “Clearly something’s up.” 

Tommy looks like he wants to speak but Wilbur levels a glare at him. It’s subtle, but Phil’s not a stranger to his brothers, he can read them like a book. He raises an eyebrow. 

“How’s that revolution role play thing going on out in the woods?” 

Now Tommy flinches and Wilbur frowns, Techno drops his eyes to his food. They’re withholding something. 

“‘s going good,” Tommy mutters, then winces hard. “Wilbur, what the fuck? why did you kick me?” 

Wilbur whispers harshly to the blond boy. Phil catches a few words like ‘shut the hell up’ and ‘doesn’t need to know’ before he steps in.

“Wilburson, Thomas.” Phil starts, Techno mutters a quiet ‘oh shit’ at the use of full names. Philza ignores him, electing to instead look both his brothers in the eye. “I thought this was a no secrets family. I’m not a strict parent, I won’t punish either of you if you tell me the truth right now.” 

Wilbur holds his silence, glaring despite the fact that his leg starts bouncing again and he’s sweating under Phil’s ‘dadly’ gaze. Tommy’s not doing much better, his hands clasped on his knees as he stares at slowly cooling dinner. He keeps shooting glances at Wilbur and then Phil. They sit until the silence becomes unbearable. 

Tommy breaks first. “Wilbur’s gonna blow up Manburg at the festival today.” 

“Tommy!” Wilbur hisses. 

“And I don’t mean role play, I mean like for real. Dream gave him chemicals and shit and he wants to burn the whole place down.” 

Phil pales as he clenches his hands where they rest under his chin. “Wilbur. Explain.”

“You’re mad,” Wilbur says softly. He’s evading the question, not successfully. 

“No, I’m not. Not yet. Explain,” Phil says sternly. 

“I’m in the right, you know.” 

“Ex. Plain.” 

“Schlatt took it away from me. I fought for it, I won it fair and square, I even won the election we held to consolidate power, but Quackity and Schlatt pooled their votes. We didn’t ban co-elision governments.” Wilbur says, shoulder dropping as he stares at his shoes. “He banned me and Tommy from L’manburg. Changed the name to Manburg too.

“If I can’t have Manburg, no one can. Don’t you see Phil, I’m in the right. I’m the right one here. I’m the villain this story needs.” 

“Wilbur you’re a 17 year old boy, you’re not a villain. You are in trouble for messing with chemicals because that could _seriously_ hurt someone, but I’m not mad at you,” Phil explains. 

“Phil, no. You don’t understand. They deserve it. They all betrayed me.” 

“It’s a game, Wilbur. No one deserves anything for playing a game.” 

“It’s not fair! I won L’Manburg, I led the revolution. Why am I the one losing it?” Wilbur shouts, rising from his chair to slam his fist on the table. The dishes rattle softly. 

“Sit down, Wilbur. It’s not fair, but it’s also not fair or right to potentially hospitalize someone over _a shack_ in the woods. You’re staying home tonight, just for my peace of mind, ok?”

“But Phil—!”

“ _Ok?_ ” 

Wilbur sighs deeply, head drooping. “Ok.” 

“Thank you. We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, once you’ve had a night to think it over.” 

After dinner, Wilbur expires to his room, texting someone furiously. 

~~~~ 

_You: I’m still doing it. I’ll sneak out the window if I have to._

_Gremlin Child: Wilbur_

_You: I don’t care._

~~~

After Tommy scampers off from Schlatt he bumps face to face with Wilbur, who frantically digs in the first leaves of fall for something. 

“Wilbur?”

“I lost it, the lighter, it’s fucking gone,” He’s mumbling the line like a mantra in meditation, like it’ll bring him some peace. “Where the fuck’s the lighter?” 

“Wilbur, I’m serious, you don’t have to do this!” Tommy drops to his knees to meet Wilbur’s dull brown eyes. Frantic, muddy hands slow to a halt. 

“Please, Wil. I’m getting actually scared,” Tommy pleads. 

Something sparks in his brother’s eyes, the first sane emotion Tommy’s seen in two weeks. It’s gone in a flash, but Tommy clings to the hope that maybe he’s gotten to Wilbur. 

“Please. Let’s just go home, real home, not the ravine. Tommyinnit persona aside, please. It’s late, I’m fucking tired, big man. Let’s go _home_ ,” he begs. 

Wilbur scrunches his eyebrows up, the beginning of tears in his eyes. He speaks so softly, gaping like a fish at first as if he’s struggling for words. “I’m so scared... of the world outside the SMP woods. I don’t want to live there, Toms. It’s difficult. I’m not ready.” 

Tommy thinks back to his conversation with Phil that night he had the nightmare. _“I had no support system, nobody to fall back on if I fucked up. I never wanted that for anybody else.”_ It feels like years have gone by since that, but the emotions are still there. 

“It’s ok, Wilbur. It’s ok to be scared sometimes,” Tommy answers. He pulls his brother into a tight hug. “We’ll be here for you, you’re not doing this on your own.” 

“I know,” Wilbur whispers, clutching his younger brother like a lifeline. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, big man,” Tommy lets his older brother hold him for a good long while, the moisture from the ground soaking into his jeans. The late summer heat has dissipated with the darkness, giving way to cool temperatures. The crickets chirp as the two cling to each other like moss to a tree. 

“I won’t tell Philza you snuck out if you cut it with the crazy bullshit, deal?” Tommy says jokingly, when it feels appropriate. He slowly pulls away from Wilbur. He holds out his pinky finger. 

Wilbur laughs wetly, locking his own pinky in Tommy’s. “Deal.” 

~~~~ 

Manburg survives another day, but Tommy’s beef with Techno, as imaginary as it is, needs to be solved. With violence, if he can help it. Tubbo may have forgiven the pinkette; Tommy sure as fuck hasn’t.

“What happens in the pit, stays in the pit,” Wilbur laughs out. He seems happier. He’s still playing a deranged character despite his promise, but this time it’s just that, playing. 

Tommy throws a punch at Techno, a soft one, not meant to actually hurt just play fighting. It feels good to be pretending now, settling into Tommyinnit to play the role he created. 

“Tommy, you’re using these words,” Techno drawls as he holds the blond almost effortlessly in a headlock. “But the only universal language… is violence. And we’ve had the conversation, in the pit.” 

“You such a dramatic shit, Techno, let me up,” Tommy complains, smacking at Techno’s arm. 

“No.” 

“Let me the fuck up, big man,” Tommy demands.

“Ask me nicely.” 

“Please oh _please_ will you let me up, dickhead?” Tommy snarls, sarcasm palpable. 

“Good enough for me.” 

Techno lets go only after he gives his brother an affectionate noogie, much to the squirming blond’s protests. 

“Oh go fuck yourself, you messed up my hair.” 

Wilbur cuts in with a hand to help Tommy out of The Pit, “He didn’t mess up your hair, your barber did.” 

“He’s a nice man, Wilbur, leave my hair alone.” 

“How much did Phil pay for that shit haircut?” Wilbur teases. 

“Oh go fuck yourself, I’ll grow into it.” 

It’s peaceful, Tubbo and Wilbur chatting away about something, the wind blowing through the leaves of the trees as they head deeper into the forest, towards the community house. There’s still conflict in the plot, there’s still enemies to be defeated, but for right now it’s peaceful. Just four boys playing make-believe in the woods. 

~~~~

The images of the maps you guys have been asking for! (Just copy-paste the link.)

https://imgur.com/gallery/QZlYUQL 

Please say a big thank you to my friend who helped me get these images available for you to see. They have a youtube channel, go subscribe to it if you like minecraft building content. Go subscribe to it if you wanna show ur thanks to them for this. 

https://m.youtube.com/channel/UC2wA1npAY5INYV0wJm68OnQ (again, copy and paste)

I couldn’t have presented these maps to you without their help and I really appreciate it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments, let me know if I missed anything, i hinge my self worth of the fleeting thoughts of strangers.
> 
> ***To reiterate, if your reading this and don’t see the maps, it’s bc I’m physically in school still haven’t gotten the pictures of them yet.***
> 
> Also, i am so fuckin excited to post this, if you enjoyed again let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Psst, IdyllSunset, I’m gonna include your idea in a kind of ‘deleted scenes’ chapter because it’s just too good to not write, i love it so much. It just didn’t fit in with the direction the story is going in, so fret not it’ll show up it’s just not canon despite being so in character. I’m already planning a Phil centered chapter so i hope I do your interpretation of his online persona justice. 
> 
> I really, really like Wilbur’s descent into madness but it felt too fast for me, so i tried to stretch it out a bit. It’s also heavily implied that Wilbur’s using the SMP to escape from his real problems, things like picking colleges, finding a job, growing up. It’s a huge fear of mine and i live vicariously through various characters in the fandom I’m fixated on, so if it feels real, good. 
> 
> Here’s ages of the characters btw:  
> Tommy, Tubbo, Eret, Quackity, Niki- 16  
> Wilbur, Schlatt, Dream, Badboyhalo, Skeppy- 17  
> Sapnap, Techno- 18  
> George- 19, what a grandpa  
> Phil- 28


	7. Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are scenes i took out of the last 2 chapters for either 1) being incorrect to the timeline 2) not to my liking or 3) just too boring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, today is my birthday! I’m gonna try to do a double update day as a treat. I’m one year closer to finally being able to disappear into the woods and live off nothing but mushrooms and moss. 
> 
> No trigger warnings I can think of.

1.“Techno, why is Wilbur acting so weird?” Tommy asks one movie night. Phil is snoring next to them and Wilbur is in his room already. There’s a sleepy haze falling over the two of them. Tommy can’t stop thinking about the look in Wil’s eyes earlier today. 

“He’s not good with stress,” Techno whispers. “I was like this last year. That’s why I spend the summer farming potatoes and beating Squid Kid.” 

“But Wilbur’s not doing something harmless like potato farming. He could hurt someone, for real,” Tommy argues. 

“Contrary to how I act, I do handle stress about things like school and college pretty well. I have the best grades because it stresses me out even more if I don’t. I’m not good with people, Wilbur doesn’t have that problem. He hasn’t ever faced anything like this,” Texhno explains. “It’s not his fault he’s not taking it well, but it's his fault that he’s running away from his problems, and the consequences of his actions will catch up to him.

“He’s always liked to pretend, Tommy, even before you came here he was always the more ‘creative’ one. I may be older, but he was the boss, you know? He fears things he can’t control.” 

“Like if he'll get into college or not,” Tommy mutters. 

“Or if he’ll actually get that job at the music store.” Techno nods. “Those things are out of his control and it scares him.” 

“What should we do to help him?” Tommy wonders aloud. 

Technoblade sighs. “We can’t do anything until Wilbur himself realizes what he’s doing. I don’t think he’s there yet.” 

“Well I feel useless just standing off to the side,” Tommy admits. “What if I try and nudge him in the right direction? Or what if we staged an intervention?” 

“Yes to the first idea, no to the second idea. Wilbur is too stubborn for his own good, you know that, Tommy.” 

Tommy nods in agreement. Wilbur almost never relents on anything. If he wants something, he’ll stand his ground until there’s a path for him to get it, be it through persistence or hard work. 

~~~~~

~~~~~

2\. Phil is doing dishes when he sees the smoke coming from the forest though his kitchen window. His first thought is campers. There aren’t really many, the copious amounts of teenagers waging pretend fights at any moment are a huge turn off for the local camping community, but once or twice some out of towners try their luck at staying the night. 

  
  


He wishes them the best of luck, tonight’s The Festival, whatever the hell that means. He knows his kids, when they dive into their personas, can be rather brash, especially Tommy. 

His second thought is ‘hey isn’t that coming from the direction of the old shack?’ It’s too close to be the fire pit, too far to the left to be any houses, not that any actually have working fireplaces in the neighborhood. 

Then it snowballs, adding up the secretive ways his kids talk when they think he’s not listening. The way Tommy seemed nervous at dinner, and Wilbur quietly determined. He’s not stupid. He knows they’re planning something. His best guess used to be party crashing. He’s not so sure anymore. 

Then it adds the fact that Wilbur’s been fingering a lighter all week, saying he’s just practicing to look cool. He caught his second oldest staring at himself in a mirror while holding the lighter up. Wilbur’s smile scared Phil just the tiniest bit. 

Then his next thought is ‘OH FUCK’ and he’s racing out the back door, snagging his bucket hat before he goes. His slips ons (jokingly dubbed the Old Man Slippers, courtesy of Wilbur) slap against the dew ridden ground as he books it towards the sight of the smoke, hoping he can make it there before anything more happens. 

Whatever his kids have gotten up to, it’s nothing good. 

~~~~~

~~~~~

3\. Dream and Techno stand opposing each other on a small grassy hill in the outskirts of No Man’s Land. He got a text from Dream on discord, in one of the official roleplay chats to meet him at a certain latitude and longitude. It took Techno ages to find it, resorting to using google maps to get close. 

“Dream,” He starts. 

“Techno.” The smiley face mask is unreadable, and neither is his tone. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it clout?” 

That gets a snort. “No.” 

“Cringe, boo.” Techno jokes. 

Dream drops a suspicious, large, brown paper bag in front of Techno. Technically, weed is legal here, but he didn’t think Dream would be the kind of person to have any. 

“Drugs?” He asks, just to make sure. 

“What? No! Just open it,” Dream instructs, clearly amused. 

Techno shrugs and picks it up. Inside are snacks, two letters, one addressed to Wilbur, the other to Tommy, and a small bottle of gatorade. 

“The gatorade’s for you, call it a potion though. Red means it’s a strength potion. Check the discord for how it works if you need to,” Dream explains. “I want to help, but I must remain in the shadows. I can’t publicly be seen helping.” 

“Ok,” Techno says dumbly. He’s not the best at this role playing thing. He’s also not the best at social interaction. Techno’s not as dramatic when it comes to portraying his character. 

“Make sure the two of them get those letters,” Dream reminds, before turning on his heel and swiftly running away. His hoodie helps him blend in with his surroundings. 

Techno stares at the supplies. He should probably get a cooler for Pogtopia soon, or borrow one if Phil has a spare. 

~~~~~

~~~~~

4\. “I’m raising only Niki’s taxes,” Schlatt announces. 

“What?” The girl protests. “That’s not fair!” 

“Shut up,” Schlatt commands. A self satisfied smile crosses his face. “Call it a ‘I don’t like you’ tax.” 

Wilbur watches from the bushes, anger in his eyes and a snarl on his lips. He’ll have to recruit Niki soon and get her out from under Schlatt’s iron rule and blatant favoritism.

~~~~~

~~~~~

5\. “My first decree…“ 

Schlatt stands tall on the small deck of L’manburg. He’s wearing a suit (who wears a suit to a forest??? Tommy thinks to himself), looking everything like the business man his persona is. Tommy’s character has never been one to be nervous, it’s just not practical in most of the situations he’s in, but something in Schlatt’s tone has him on edge.

“As President of L’manburg...“

Wilbur is sweating bullets beside him. Clearly he can also feel whatever Tommy’s picking up on. All the eyes are on Schlatt, every single citizen. No one even dares to breath. It’s like the birds know, silencing their chirping for this early morning scene and staying clear of the Devil on the stage, fake goat horns and all. 

“Is to revoke!!!” 

Quackity is looking pleased as shit, three parts smug, one part excited. 

“The citizenship!” 

Tommy’s heart sinks. 

“Of Wilbur Soot.” 

Oh shit. 

“And Tommyinnit!” 

And suddenly the eyes are one them. Wilbur’s latching onto Tommy’s sleeve and they’re running. Wilbur’s shouting, and shouting, but it’s drowned out by the angry mob following them. Their former citizens. They’re former _friends_. 

Someone hits Wilbur with a rock and it’s all it takes to make him have to stop and return to his spawn point. Tommy’s alone, weaponless, armorless, brotherless. He makes a split second decision to run for no man’s land. That’s where they decided Pogtopia would be when they as a group roughly sketched out how this chapter of the roleplay would go. Pogtopia didn’t really serve much of a purpose in that meeting, just an extra place waiting for some action to necessitate its use. (A decent amount of the role play on the server is made up on the spot, a few things planned here and there. Things are proposed, and prepared for just in case it takes a turn, the SMP is known for its betrayals after all.)

Tommy makes it to the ditch, just waiting for Wilbur. There’s a tent pitched nearby, probably from Sapnap or George, who live farther away from the woods. They often camp to make things easier on Dream. George wasn’t in attendance for the election, probably still snoozing away in there. 

Tommy takes in gasps of air, breathing hard from his spontaneous burst of running. 

Now to wait for Wilbur. 

~~~~~

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: scenes 1+2 are NOT canon to this universe.   
> Scenes 3+4+5 ARE canon to this universe.  
> Expect a second update today, i’m gonna try real hard to get one out. I have a whole other chapter planned out I just have to write it.
> 
> Have a lovely day and thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer’s almost over. Things are changing. Tommy’s really not sure what exactly to think about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Trigger Warnings i can think of. Maybe a bit of existential dread? 
> 
> Have fun with this one, I really think Techno has the ‘actions over words’ kind of brotherly vibes.

It’s quiet. 

Tommy should be asleep, it’s like 1 in the morning, but his brain won’t shut off. For once he isn’t worrying about the SMP events, the news of a traitor to Pogtopia,  _ another _ traitor, actually. Dream renounced his support for the ex-L’manburgians and revealed that someone else is working against them. 

But, that’s not what has him up. Summer is almost over, three more weeks. He’s going to be seventeen this year. Seventeen. It feels like a massive number, so much bigger than sixteen despite only being one numerical value higher. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. It’s both scary and exciting, like skydiving, or going into a haunted house, but with responsibility instead of spooky monsters. For a moment, he thinks he understands Wilbur’s struggles. He thinks he gets Techno’s apprehension. 

But where Wilbur comes up short grades wise, and where Techno fails at conversations, Tommy is comfortable. He has good grades (B’s and A’s. no A+’s but he doesn’t put that much effort into getting them), he can talk to people (there’s the lingering awkwardness that comes with striking up a conversation with a stranger, or trying to speak to a girl, but he pushes through). 

For one moment, he can put himself in either of their shoes. He doesn’t want to leave behind his persona either, someone unburdened by the problems of anything but war and nations and playing pretend. 

He feels time slipping through his fingers, years seem to have passed in the blink of an eye. He can remember being seven, nervously following the lady from the foster care place up the driveway. 

_ “I know it’s hard, try to be good, Tommy.” _ She was very nice. Tommy doesn’t miss her. 

Felt like seconds in the past, like he closed his eyes for a moment and now he’s here, with his problems right beside him. What is he even going to do with his life? Where does he want to go? This is where he differs from his brothers. Wilbur has his music, and his voice, Technoblade has his rapidly growing youtube channel, and an interest in psychology. Tommy has the SMP woods, and that’s something he’s going to have to leave behind. 

So what is he going to do?

Dinner got him thinking about it. Techno broke the news then, over the chicken parmesan meal Phil made. 

_ “I got accepted.” A calloused hand pushes pink hair around. He doesn’t sound nervous, but Tommy can see the sheen of sweat on his brow. The table shakes a little as Techno fidgets. Phil breaks into a wide, proud smile.  _

He’s leaving. Come fall Technoblade is packing up and moving into a cheap apartment a short drive away from some big fancy college he got accepted into. 4 years of no Techno except on breaks and occasionally in the summer. 

Tommy almost can’t believe it. His cool older brother, the one who’s stood between him and countless bullies, who got into Minecraft because Tommy needed someone to play with, who likes to cook but won’t admit that even under penalty of death, who’s been there since the beginning.

Tommy arrived and even before Phil became a solid figure in his mind, Techno was there. Wilbur was too, but he was different, softer, a more blurry shape. Techno rarely spoke to Tommy in the beginning. But he always held Tommy’s hand when they crossed the streets, he always saved him a spot on the couch during movie night. Those early days when Tommy had trouble fitting himself into the family, Technoblade made it easier. 

He loves his whole family with his entire heart, but it’s not going to feel the same without the Blade. A too-big dinner table, no more snacks with a piece of duct tape labeled ‘Techno’ in the cupboards (the label never stopped Tommy and Wilbur from pilfering and getting their dirty crime hands all over the snack cupboard). 

Now he’ll just have Wilbur Snacks to steal and Wilbur only eats bananas. He doesn’t want Techno to leave. He doesn’t want to only see Techno on holidays and summer time. 

Time moves forward, but Tommy kind of wishes it would leave his family alone and stop bothering them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update double update double update. I know it’s short but this scatter chart of a plot is coming together soon. 
> 
> I figured i’d treat myself to posting twice on my birthday since posting a chapter always makes me really happy. 
> 
> My cat is asleep on my chest as I post this. She’s really cute and I love her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Finale
> 
> (alternatively titled, Oh God, Oh Fuck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Arson, Tommy almost gets burned
> 
> Look, I’m pretty late for writing about this, I only watched Techno’s stream off the finale and clips from Philza’s, And I wrote most of this at 1 in the morning last night when my thumbs were asleep even if I fucking couldn’t for some reason. It’s so dissapointing, I thought i was getting better at sleeping good. To conclude: this is shit, i’m sorry. I only like the dialogue and even then it was hard to write. 
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter even if it is hastily written. It’s a bit longer than a few of the other chapters bc someone commented that they wished my chapters were longer and by god i’m not going to let them down.
> 
> Also, hinted Eret Redemption Arc, pog.

“Today’s the day,” Tommy tells his reflection, muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. “Today is the day.” 

They can do it. They can free their country from Schlatt’s iron fist. After breakfast, of course. Phil’s making pancakes since he learned about the big event. 

Wilbur seems cheerful, really cheerful. Tommy hopes it’s from confidence, and not lack thereof. Wilbur is either ready for this, or he’s terrified and trying to hide it. Regardless, he ruffles Tommy’s hair when he passes him the upstairs hall, and once again calls his haircut shit. 

Tommy makes a face and shoots his brother the middle finger just to be sure he gets his point across. 

Techno leaves his room looking like a zombie, his pale pink hair in a bun loosened by sleep. Tommy makes fun of him, as it his is his right as the youngest sibling. And they all sit down with their plates, waiting for pancakes to be done. 

“I have the day off work today,” Phil starts, taking a long sip of coffee. “Three day weekend, pog.” 

Tommy snorts. “You should join us in the woods. You can be... Philza Minecraft, hardcore survivalist.” 

“Don’t name him after a video game, Tommy.” Wilbur groans. 

Phil gives him an amused look, ignoring Wil. “What makes you think I’m a survivalist?” 

Tommy shrugs. “Well, it’s more badass than just being our dad.” 

“True.” 

Wilbur suddenly joins in. “Maybe you’ve been like, surviving for years on your own, because we’ve moved out of the house and you got _bored_ without us around.” 

“Not enough chaos without us,” Techno adds, the first words he’s spoken this morning. 

“Exactly,” Tommy says, he points his fork in Phil’s direction. “And then you got bored of that, so you came to check on us, and you see we have our country back and shit, and you’re so proud of us and Wilbur is President again and Schlatt just fucking dies—” 

“Language,” Phil interrupts. 

“—Sorry. And Schlatt just dies and we all piss ourselves laughing.” 

“Language again.” 

“Oh come on!” Tommy whines. “Piss isn’t a swear word! You’re just like Badboyhalo. I’m sixteen, I should be allowed to say piss.” 

Phil hums as he considers it. “Fine. But no f-words in the house. I don’t care what you say in the woods, but watch your mouth here.” 

“Yeah Tommy, watch your fucking mouth,” Wilbur teases. 

Tommy turns to Phil, expecting him to say something. He says nothing, but he’s clearly trying to hide a smile behind his coffee cup. 

“Seriously!? Wilbur can say the f-word but I can’t? He’s only one year older than me!” Tommy complains. 

Wilbur giggles, and Tommy sulks the rest of breakfast. 

~~~~

Tommy’s hand shakes, where has Wilbur gone? He didn’t notice it until now but the ground reeks of chemicals. They have L’manburg back, and he’s given up his presidency to Tubbo, who he knows will be a good and fair leader. Wilbur should be here, celebrating. But he’s not. 

“Wilbur?” He shouts, hoping to at least alert his brother of where he is. 

“Wilbur! Where are you?” 

Suddenly he hears a shout, he turns, and he’s met face to face with a horrible sight. The shack, L’manburg, is burning, burning bright. It’s spreading to the ground, and now the chemical smell makes sense. 

He can’t believe Wilbur actually did it. He thought Wilbur was getting better. He thought Wilbur knew when it was too far. 

Tommy’s in shock, he can’t do much but smell the burning chemicals and watch the flames get closer to his feet. He takes a shaky step back, his feet squishing on the soaked ground. His knees are locked, he can’t fucking move. His chest feels tight as he watches the shack start to cave in on itself, groaning and popping as fire takes advantage of old wood. 

Someone’s arm grabs him and pulls him away, his feet not obeying him but happy to follow someone else. He catches sight of dark sunglasses and a head that he thinks should be wearing a crown, before he gets control of his legs and starts properly running. 

~~~~ 

Bright red trucks are leaving the site of the woods. Where the shack stood is not just a frame of the sturdiest of the wood, blackened by unforgiving flame. 

Tubbo stands at his side. “It’s ok, we can fix it. We can make it better.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than Tommy. 

Tommy doesn’t say anything more than a thanks when Phil wraps a blanket around him. Wilbur is in a fuck ton of trouble, both SMP wise, and real life wise. He could possibly be facing an arson charge. Luckily the shack is _technically_ on Phil’s property, and he’s obviously not going to press charges on his own son. But he did ground Wilbur for almost a year. No TV, no guitar, no hanging out with friends. He lost basically anything that even remotely brings him joy. 

Phil is also now an official part of the SMP, taking in the role of janitor, helping clean up the place. He decides to keep a closer eye on Tommy and Techno. They’re allowed out, Phil explains, but they must check in hourly and come home when Phil says so. 

The whole group is brought together and Techno reveals that he was supposed to be the traitor, and that he had withers (piñatas, but like, painted spooky. Tommy watched him paint them, getting frustrated more than once). He tells them he’s not gonna do that now, but if everyone could pretend that he did that would be great. Tommy doesn’t laugh, but he does crack a smile. 

They all sit in a circle around the community campfire, which they refused to light, instead placing a lantern in the ash and charcoal (“Symbolic,” Tubbo says when questioned why he put a lantern in an unlit fireplace, midday). They do nothing but sit together, thankful no one got injured, or, sky gods forbid, killed. 

~~~~

“Ok, end of summer announcement,” Dream starts. “It’s almost the end of this season of the SMP, and we need to address some things. One, who will be joining next year, if they don’t have any surprise plans? Two, what is next summer going to play out like? We need to figure out plot lines, and character arcs.

“Three, we need to discuss territory lines, see if they need rearranging due to recent events. And four, recent events.” 

Dream steps off the log he was standing on to address the crowd properly. 

“I’d like to start off with recent events, and an apology. For Wilbur’s behavior and my own. I let it go too far, and I swear it won’t happen again. L’manburg was only supposed to be destroyed in our imaginations, and I let it get out of control. If that was too much for you, you are welcome to leave, but understand that I will not be letting it happen again, and I’ve discussed with Philza, Tommy and Techno’s guardian, ways of keeping it just to fun levels. 

“The rest will be addressed in group chats so it is recorded and easier to find, but that is all I have to say for now. If anyone has questions, there’s a questions channel on the discord. Again, I’m sorry for letting it get too far, and it will never happen again on my watch.”

~~~~

Tommy stands in front of an old stick fort, eyes fond and smile warm. He may not have shit right now, but at least he has this. He leans down and plops himself on the leaf littered ground, a cushion of moss hidden beneath the crunch of fall shades. A colorful little rock, hand painted (rather poorly, but he’s still proud of it) by Tommy himself catches his eye. 

_Tommyinnit’s House_ , it proclaims. There’s several words in silver sharpie crossed out and replaced with other words, and the little stick statue Bad made of him that one time standing right next to it. 

He’s finally here again. His embassy. His _home._ He may have lost two older brothers, one in death, one in betrayal, but at least he has this, and Philza now, too. He’s got his country back, with his best friend leading it. Sure, Wilbur did use actual fire. Sure, the whole place is scorched to all hell and basically unrecognizable as L’manburg (And sure, Phil called the fire department). But things are looking up for the SMP. 

If only it wasn’t the last day of summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst, some family dynamics, some fluff, some bittersweet, and some very shitty summary writings of events. I tried to go for like a shocked kind of numb retelling of events and i just think it feels emotionless, not numb, you know?
> 
> But for the first time in a long time I got less than 7 hours of sleep and I’m exhausted. I’m usually out cold by 10:30, 11 at the lastest if I don’t have anything else occupying me. 
> 
> What sucks is that at 3:30 am last night i was like, huh ok i feel kind of sleepy! yay! and then I had to pee and it ruined it. I was so mad. 
> 
> Anywho, yell at me for my hasty writing in the comments if you want. Quick note that’s not super important: even if the events of the SMP have moved onto season 2, my fic has to get through the school year first. I am American. I know jack shit about the European schooling system. I am uncomfortably aware of the train wreck that is the american education system. Considering that a lot of the people on the SMP are American, I’m placing this AU officially in the USA. Idk where tho. I know most of SBI is British, but it’s my AU, I’ll do with it what I want.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy starts the new school year. It’s difficult without Techno. It’s different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depression, mentions of bullying, mentions of depression, suggested abandonment issues, suggested self hatred
> 
> This is a heavy chapter, so I’ll include a summary in the end notes. I’ll be doing this for darker chapters later on. 
> 
> I’m hesitant to post this chapter. First of all, it’s pretty personal and I don’t want to cause any worry from my readers. This is my way of venting, but the things i’m venting about have long since happened. Second of all, I don’t know if writing this kind of stuff is ok with the content creators. It’s heavy topics, it’s angst. I don’t know if the actual Tommy is comfortable with his internet persona being used like this. I’m going to post it, because I think the character growth from Tommy recovering from problems like these is important for some people to see, but if I find out the content creators aren’t ok with it i’ll be taking the chapter down and reworking it into something lighter 
> 
> If you feel like how Tommy does in this chapter, please please please tell someone. You’re not alone and if your reading this then I love you and I’m here for you. I know i’m an author on a fanfiction site and that doesn’t count for much, but i’m with you and i want you to know that.

School has always been nerve-wracking. This year, though, this year his available group of ‘older-than-him-but-not-jerks’ friends have dwindled. Techno’s gone, Sapnap’s gone, George is gone. Basically anyone cool in his friend group aside from Dream is gone. People he didn’t even realize he knew well enough to consider them friends are gone too. It’s strange to sit next to Wilbur at the lunch table and not have Techno in proximity. He can’t go around telling people he’s friends with Georgenotfound because being friends with an _adult_ is the opposite of the definition of a cool kid. 

Wilbur tries his best to act normal, but it still feels like there’s something missing. They start calling Techno during lunch, putting him on video chat or just on speaker. Techno cut his hair, once long enough to braid locks now short and wavy. 

Phil stills makes dinner a little bit too big, leftovers often packed for lunch like it’s what he intended from the start. The empty bedroom down the hall from Tommy’s, it’s the exact same as the day Techno left. Tommy often finds himself texting Techno about things he wasn’t there for. It’s… confusing. 

People have also noticed Techno’s absence. People who were previously afraid to mess with Tommy in fear of his brother. Wilbur’s too old, too well liked to get bullied. Tommy’s got Tubbo, and that’s about it. His friend group may be his friends, but he doesn’t spend all of his available time with them and he certainly doesn’t expect them to _stand up_ for him. 

And now Tommy sits in the nurse's office, an ice pack to his cheek and his ribs hurting. Phil’s on the other end of his phone as he holds gingerly to his ear. His knuckles ache. 

“Yeah, Phil, for the last time, I’m fine,” He mutters. His lip is swollen. “I promise, I promise.” 

_“Do you want me to come pick you up?”_

Tommy thinks on it. He checks the time on the clock above the nurse’s desk. Wilbur will be pissed if Phil needs to stay home to take care of Tommy, he’s got therapy right after school. There’s only thirty minutes left, he can wait it out and get a ride home with Tubbo like he planned. 

“No, I’m good. Tubbo said he’d take me,” Tommy says after a moment. 

_“Are you sure? I’m working from home today, I can take the time to pick you up.”_

“No no, it’s fine, Mr. Philza Minecraft,” Tommy assures. “Tubbo will get lonely, he’s so clingy, you know?” 

_“You’ve told me all about clingy Tubbo, Tommy, and he’s over for dinner at least twice a week now, I know. But if you’re sure you. I’m going to get to back to work.”_ Phil’s voice is like warm water on achy joints, and sinking into a familiar hug after a long day. _“Love you, Tommy. See you after I drop your brother off at therapy.”_

“Bye, Phil.” He hangs up, and looks up at the nurse. “Can.. Can I stay here, for the rest of the day?”

The nurse looks over from her computer. “As long as you won’t fall behind.” 

Jokes on this lady, Tommy thinks, I’m so fucking far behind. He sits there and scrolls through twitter, checking out Techno’s page. He smiles and it hurts his cheeks but he refuses to stop. Tommy doesn’t realize he’s a little teary eyed until Tubbo points it out to him on the way to the car. Tubbo knows how to drive, has since before he turned 16. Tommy is (secretly) impressed and (not so secretly) jealous. 

“Are your eyes watering? Does getting punched really hurt that bad?” Tubbo asks. 

“Wha-phh-uhh yeah it fucking hurts that bad!” Tommy exclaims. “I’ve punched you before.” 

Tubbo shakes his head. “That was only play, you didn’t hit me _that_ hard.” 

“Would you have wanted me to? I’m massive, Tubbo, you don’t want to die, so you?” Tommy says, flexing his twig arms. 

Tubbo eyes him from his peripherals. “I think I could take it.” 

Tommy sends Tubbo across the street with a frozen sponge in a bag for his red and swollen cheek.That’s what he gets for challenging Tommyinnit, trained by The Blade, and an absolutely massive man. 

He steps through his door again and it’s just him. No Phil, no Wilbur, no Techno, no Tubbo. Him. On his own. The house feels vast, empty and hungry. Like it’s waiting for him to make a sound so it can open it’s floorboards and drag him under. No one would know. This empty house makes him feel like no one would care. Yet again, he can emphasize a little with Wilbur’s struggle last summer. 

Fruit snacks, Tommy nods sharply. This calls for fruit snacks. 

His socked feet make less noise than usual by his own request. 

~~~~

He has another nightmare, this time it goes from his first parents to his brothers, each turning away as some unseen force drags him away from them. 

_Hands on his ankles, he’s six again and helpless. Wilbur’s teasing sounds less… fun._

_“He’s a gremlin, honestly a pain.”_

_His brother’s back is to him as Tommy screams out for him, reaching and reaching. Each time he manages to pull himself closer the invisible hands tighten and he’s pulled back again. His brother never acknowledges him._

_Techno stands in front of him, his eyes looking straight though him._

_Picture frames -none of them with him in them-_

_Phil, the car, the group house,_ alone _. suffocating, crying, no one’s there, no one will ever be there, they leave him_

_and they will always leave him._

He wakes up screaming for the first time in a very long time. Phil’s slamming his door open in thirty seconds, Wilbur hot on his heels. Why couldn’t Techno have stayed??? 

Phil’s shoulders drop when he sees Tommy, shaken but fine on the bed, alarmed by the loud noise and sudden light. His sigh fills the stillness. 

“Nightmare?” He asks. 

“Bad one,” Tommy says softly. “Really bad one.” 

Wilbur shoulders his way in and onto Tommy’s bed. It dips and the slight movement makes Tommy flinch a bit. His ankles feel like they’re being gripped at for a moment, but he shakes himself out of it. Phil follows after another second, sitting on the other side of the bed. 

“Hey, Toms, can I give you a hug?” Wilbur turns to face him better. 

“Please?” Tommy’s not feeling very secure that Wilbur won’t turn away and shit talk him like he’s not there, as illogical as it is. 

Wilbur’s arms engulf him, and he’s warm and Tommy can hear the blood running in his veins and feel every time he breathes. It brings him to his senses, the blanket panic that gripped him tight yielding to his sense of reasoning. 

“Can I join?” Phil asks. 

Tommy nods into Wilbur’s shoulder, not trusting his voice. His eyes burn and when he blinks against Wilbur’s pajama shirt he can feel the wetness soaking it. Phil’s arms wrap around his other side and hold him tight. His hands smell like mouthwash, for some reason, but the sharp scent is a welcome one, it’s something to grasp on to. 

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut and let’s himself cry into his family’s arms. Something feels missing though, something irreplaceable and not forgotten. Tommy’s has room for one more in the group hug and the space is glaringly obvious. 

~~~~ 

Tommy grows progressively more tired as the weeks go by. He’s not a coffee fan, much preferring coke or pepsi (or god forbid anymore coke-a-pepsi he made on a dare), but it doesn’t beat the boost of caffeine that things like Starbucks gives. 

He started his own youtube channel a few weeks ago. Called it Tommyinnit after his roleplay character. Turns out Dream and his friend group have a minecraft server very similar to their little thing in the woods, this time on a much more realistic level, that they also make videos around. Considering a lot of the mechanics of their roleplay were based on Minecraft, it makes sense. He hasn’t been invited to it, but then again he’s not very well known yet.

His streaming schedule has been kicking his ass though. Phil allows him to stay up as long as his grades don’t slip. He’s been managing, kind of. He doesn’t have that many subscribers, but he has an older brother willing to give him the tips and tricks that got him to 3 mil (Techno took his youtube plaques with him to the new apartment) and possibly plug Tommy’s channel occasionally (“absolutely not, Tommy.” “I’ll promote yours if you promote mine!” “No.”). 

He wakes, he attends school, he comes home, he eats, he streams, he sleeps. Repeat ad infinitum. All while steadily losing energy. He finds himself without the energy to even hold onto things like emotions anymore. Tubbo makes a joke and he laughs but after that it’s gone. His emotions are weak unless they are in the moment. While he’s laughing he feels it, but it slips through like the water in his palms this morning when he washed his face, and then it’s gone. He can’t bring himself laugh when he reflects back on the situation. 

He eats his food so Phil won’t ask questions but he’s never hungry for anything in particular, and it doesn’t matter anyways, he doesn’t have the energy to care or put in his two cents. Phil doesn’t ask why, thankfully. Tommy isn’t sure why he’s dreading the ‘are you ok?’ he used to so desperately crave. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to lose his biggest connection to his older brother. Maybe it’s because he genuinely wouldn’t know how to answer. 

When Tommy scrapes his knee through his jeans on the way to school, he likes the burn. It startles him, it honestly does. He didn’t take himself to be the kind of person to have self harm tendencies, that’s always been Wilbur (no scissors in his room, and Phil banned him from using the kitchen knives, but that’s more because Wilbur is a _terrible_ cook than because of the danger Wil used to be to himself.), but he likes the way it burns. 

Not enough to repeat scraping his knee intentionally, his brain knows that it stings like a motherfucker, but it’s exciting. Feeling things. It’s something he didn’t know he missed. And it wasn’t draining, like talking to people, or streaming can be sometimes. Even talking to Phil can use up some of his precious energy. This isn’t the same ‘emotions exchanged for energy’ kind of thing he’s used to. 

His first revenue from youtube goes towards a case coke cola and a case of pepsi respectively. He feels successful, he feels good. And this time they last a little longer, he _likes_ it when his hard work is finally paying off. His school load lightens and he feels like he can breathe again. He feels better, it’s the only way he can describe it. See, he tells himself, I’m not depressed, that’s Wilbur’s thing. 

Besides, he’s not sad, he hasn’t really been sad all that much, just a little empty, and whole lot tired. 

~~~~

He finds himself disliking his hair in the mirror. It’s not easily tamed, despite the barber’s best attempt. He ruffles it, decides it’s not worth it and leaves the bathroom. 

It weighs on his mind for the rest of the day. He streams but he keeps brushing his hair this way and that way. It never sits right, it never looks ‘good’. He doesn’t post a VOD for it to his vod channel. 

He’s growing popularity though, he notices. 1,000 followers and climbing. He brags about it at dinner and over text to Techno (“How about that promotion now?” “Still a hard pass, Tommy”). It’s not long before he hits 2000, then 2500, and then more and more. The effort he’s putting into editing and creating content is paying off more than he expected. Winter break comes and he gets a new microphone for Christmas. It sounds good, makes his videos sound good too. 

He finds Wilbur has a song channel, where he posts the music Tommy can sometimes hear him write through the wall they share. He likes to listen to them when the emptiness feels more present, like when his channel stagnates for a day or two, or when Techno is so busy he can’t text or call. When Wilbur is out at therapy with Phil and the whole house is _silent_. 

On those days he gets angry at himself at the same time because he thought he was doing better. He thought he was out of this little ‘funk’. Logically, he knows that his channel can’t always be growing, or that Techno has finals, or that Wilbur needs this therapy and that sometimes he needs Phil to be there too. He has no reason to be like this the moment things aren’t looking up, no reason to be _dramatic._

He starts losing hope that he’ll ever get out of this hole. It’s not that it’s deep, but it’s tight and he can’t move and the dirt is pressing on him on all sides and if he wiggles he will get buried alive. And it’s in that hole that he realizes cynicism is mature and optimism is a waste of energy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doozy of a chapter. I did promise angst in the comments. Don’t worry tho, just because Tommy thinks his family hasn’t noticed, doesn’t mean they actually haven’t. If that makes any sense. Phil knows for sure. Wilbur might know, he might just be catching on at the moment. Tommy will be ok, though. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort. 
> 
> Summary: Tommy gets back to school (covid doesn’t exist in this because i said so) and with a lot of his older friend group gone, including Techno, people who were afraid to mess with Tommy are much bolder. Tommy and his family are having trouble adjusting to Techno being gone. Tommy gets beat up, and Tubbo gives him a ride home and they banter. Tommy’s house is empty when he gets home and it unnerves him. He has a nightmare about being abandoned by his family and Wil and Phil comfort him. Tommy starts a youtube channel and he’s getting progressively more exhausted emotionally and physically. He starts feeling empty. But then his channel starts growing and his hard work is paying off and he’s feeling better. He has bad days and he gets angry at himself because he thinks he was doing better and shouldn’t be having bad days. The chapter ends with him losing hope because he keeps going up and down and it’s heavily implied that he thinks the ups don’t matter because he always goes down soon after.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is not stupid, and he’s not blind. He has experience in kids with mental illness before. He knows something is up with Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of other various mental illnesses, mentions of hearing voices  
> (techno really went and made chat canon for him, huh)  
> I promised a phil chapter but this is such shit.   
> Also hi! Long time no update, funny story is, i got a massive writers block. Getting a new computer and getting to type on it brought back most of my motivation and tada! a shitshow of a chapter. Enjoy.

Phil taps his fingers on the steering wheel, brow creased deep in thought. Wilbur’s in therapy, in the building just across the street. He’s glad it seems to be helping his son. Wilbur smiles fuller now, and that’s a huge relief. But the waiting for him to get out is always kind of nerve wracking. Phil’s never really sure what state Wilbur will be in. He had a few times where Wilbur comes out red eyed, but happy, and a few where he just seemed pissed off.

Phil breaths in deep, and his mind wanders to his youngest. Tommy.

Philza is not stupid, he’s not blind, and he’s had 2 other kids with mental illnesses, he knows something is up with Tommy. But he doesn’t know how to approach him. 

With Techno, it took a push. He had to ask about it bluntly, and plainly, and not baby him, because Techno does not like being babied. He always takes it as someone being condescending. No coddling, but not mean. He asked if Techno was as concerned about his mental health as Phil was. That’s how he got Techno to open up about his anxiety and his ‘voices’. 

Wilbur was different, he needed a rock, something to keep himself tethered to until he was ready. Phil has always offered to be that rock, that place all of his sons can anchor themselves to when they come home. Wilbur needed space, but not too much space. That’s why he’s in therapy. Phil gave him too much space and he went off the rails. Phil’s grip on the wheel tightens. Another deep breath. 

Tommy. Where does he start with Tommy? His youngest is standoffish, stubborn, and doesn’t like to be coddled, like Techno. But at the same time he really seems to benefit when someone is treating him gently. He doesn’t like physical touch, but he stills leans in to the half armed hugs, the movie night dog pile. Tommy is an amalgamation of his brothers, but in his own way. He takes what he learns from all three of them and applies it to himself differently. 

So how the hell does Phil tell him he’s worried without a screaming match ensuing? How the hell does he give Tommy space when he can tell it’s the space that’s killing him. Even if Tommy doesn’t know it, Phil can see something’s eating at him and it always seems to get worse after he and Wilbur are both gone. 

_ Abandonment issues _ , his mind whispers. But Tommy is always so insistent he’s fine. Phil knows it’s not true but if he pushes he doesn’t want to lose Tommy. Techno and Wilbur were both easy to comfort and help, but Tommy’s walls have doors Phil doesn’t have the key to yet. Both his other children were younger than Tommy when they came into his life. Techno was 4 and violently distrusting of people. He didn’t talk to anyone until he was 6. Wilbur was 3, and would cry everytime someone new came over. They were both so small. 

Tommy was seven, a little older, a little more solid in his personality. He had trust issues he worked past easily. His nightmares were frequent, and he refused to go to Phil for 6 months. Now Tommy is drawing away again. It’s a gamble that he shows up and stays seated through dinner. His youtube channel is successful, and Phil’s told him he’s incredibly proud, but the praise seems to make Tommy feel bad. It makes his chest hurt to see him frown when Phil tells him he loves him. 

Phil’s not dumb, he knows Tommy loves him back, but it still hurts to hear it less. 

The car door opens and Phil jumps. 

“Did I scare you, old man?” Wilbur teases. He’s smiling, no puffy red eyes. Today must have been a good day. 

“Yeah, a little bit,” Phil says, laughing. “Was just thinking.” 

“About what?” Wilbur asks. 

“Do you want to go get ice cream for you and Tommy?” 

~~~~

It’s raining when Phil pulls into his driveway. Wilbur is smiling as he makes a mad dash for the door. Phil doesn’t mind the rain as it drips off his bucket hat. Icecream in hand, he pushes open the door with his foot, sighing at the welcoming atmosphere of home. 

Tommy is standing at the top of the stairs, deep eye bags framing his unusually dull eyes. Concern wells up in Phil’s chest, and he decides to talk to his youngest today, indecision on how to approach him be damned. Whatever is going on with Tommy needs to be dealt with before he ends up like Wilbur. 

Speaking of, Wilbur is staring at the icecream bag like he wants ice cream but doesn’t want to ask for it, so Phil hands it off to him. 

“Hey Tommy, you want to help with dinner tonight?” Phil asks. 

Tommy’s footsteps slowly go down the stairs. “Why?” 

“Because Wilbur is busy with icecream. And I want to chat. I haven’t talked to you much lately, and I’m sorry for that,” Phil explains. It passes through his head that perhaps that was oddly ramble-y of him. He just doesn’t want Tommy to feel like he’s in trouble. 

“It’s fine,” Tommy says blandly, stepping into the kitchen. “Not much going on.” 

“What about your youtube channel? How’s that going?” Phil prompts. 

“Good.” 

“Grab the chicken out of the fridge and mixed veggies out of the freezer for me please, Toms.” Chicken mac-cheese sounds like a fitting comfort food. Phil grabs the pasta while he thinks of what he wants to say. 

“Here,” Tommy says, throwing down. 

“Shells or elbows?” Phil calls out. “That’s an everyone question, by the way.” 

“Shells,” Wilbur says through a mouthful of ice cream. 

“Elbows,” Tommy immediately refutes. 

Wilbur swallows and scoffs. “Shells are like boats of cheese, Tommy, only an idiot would like elbows.” 

“Yeah, but elbows have nostalgia, fuck off,” Tommy refutes. 

“Language, Tommy.”

“Emotions don't beat facts and logic.” After a moment, Wilbur adds, “Gremlin child.” 

Tommy sneers. “Shells are not boats of cheese, though. They’re not deep enough.” 

“Yes, they are. Little boats made of pasta, that ferry cheese into my mouth.” 

Phil smiles as he pours both elbows and shells into the pot. “I’ll add both so you can pick out which pasta you don’t like.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like elbows, shells are just superior, Phil,” Wilbur explains, nonchalantly. 

“Sure, mate,” Phil says placatingly. “I like campanelle (“Good bless you,” Tommy says.), but we don’t have anything else besides shells, elbows and spaghetti.” 

Phil realizes belatedly this is the most put together his little family has been since Techno moved out. Most of the time Tommy is quiet, sometimes Wilbur is quiet. More often than before, one of them takes dinner to their room and returns the dishes the next day. Phil sometimes wishes he could do that too, but he’s set on being at the dinner table, even if it’s all by himself, just in case one of his boys needs him or wants to rejoin halfway through their meal. 

It’s nice to see Tommy and Wilbur bickering like they usually do.

Pasta boils, and chicken is cubed, cooked and seasoned. And then it’s just melting cheese while Tommy heats up veggies in the microwave. He has Tommy stir in the pasta while he finishes the last little bit the chicken needs. Wilbur puts away the ice cream at Phil’s request, and starts setting the dinner table. By 6 dinner is done and just needs to be served. 

The good mood is instantly killed when everyone notices that Wilbur set the table for four people. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Wilbur says quickly. “I didn’t mean to do that.” 

Phil sucks in a breath. Techno is just an hours drive away, it’s not like he’s dead or something. “You’re fine, Wil.” 

“You know, we could call him. He’s not in a different time zone, or anything,” Tommy murmurs. “We could set a laptop up so he can sit and eat with us.” 

Phil nods. “We could. Better text him first, but if he’s free, yeah.” 

~~~~

_ “So what you’re saying is you nerds miss me so much I have to eat dinner with you over Discord now?” _ Techno’s pink hair flashes on screen for a moment as he grabs something. He’s seated at the fourth table set, in his usual spot, Tommy’s laptop at an angle so everyone can see everyone. 

“Exactly,” Wilbur says. “We’re having chicken mac. And disgusting steamed vegetables.” 

“Hey! I made those ‘disgusting vegetables’, bitch,” Tommy snaps.

“It’s not your fault, mate,” Phil starts. “Some of us just can’t cook.” 

_ “If it makes you feel better, Tommy, I’m eating ramen,” _ Techno says. 

“It’s doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Stereotypical college kid,” Wilbur teases.

It feels normal for once. And both Tommy and Wilbur stay the entire meal and then some. Dishes are discarded into the sink for later and the conversation with all four of them continues until Tommy has to stream. 

Techno ‘joins’ for dinner a lot more often after that and Phil manages to completely forget to talk to Tommy despite his promise to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not familiar with writing Phil and It Shows. My apologies to the Philza stans out there. I promise this sort of arc will be picking up pace, i just needed to get back into the swing of things. I dunno if i am in the swing of things yet, so idk when i’ll post another chapter but it’ll be better written than this, i promise. I made phil like such a flat character and I feel so bad about it.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what i could do better. Also if any of the content creators in this work say they don’t want fanfiction written involving them in specific ways or at all, i’ll take this down. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
